Steeling Protection
by MissMy80sShows
Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Steele have finally returned from Ireland and they find themselves immersed in work immediately. Will a new client bring them closer together or send them searching for clues to someone's past they never expected? Complete 8/3/2020
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Rem, I was merely saying that if we'd called for Fred we could have stopped at the market on the way, but nooooo! You wanted to take a taxi to get here faster!" Laura groaned as the elevator door opened slowly.

Remington shook his head as he stated, "Laura, I simply must take a shower, and climb into my bed... or rather, OUR bed" he added with a grin, hoping this would be the end of it.

Laura looked at him in disbelief, "And what about when your need for a hot meal supersedes your need for a warm bed, Mr. Steele?" Unnoticed by the bickering pair, a woman stood, expression doleful and hair in a tight bun. Arms crossed; her face grimaced further as the Steeles' argument intensified.

"Perhaps we could have slept and you wouldn't feel so exhausted now if you hadn't been drawing the attention of every stewardess on the plane like some...some..." Laura stalled in search of the right word and finally spat out, her eyes flashing, "philanderer!"

Remington halted mid-step, a look of utter shock and outrage contorting his features, "Philanderer?!" he retaliated as Laura spun to face him. "You're calling me a philanderer? Well, you know what you are? You're a… a… a fussbudget! That's it!"

Laura's eyes widened as her jaw fell wide open and she stretched herself to her full height and spat back indignantly, "A fussbudget? I am not a…." She paused, her sleep-deprived mind suddenly whirling and confused. "Wait… what exactly IS a fussbudget?"

"YOU are! Always demanding perfection… first a less lumpy pillow, then a softer blanket. If not for all the fuss, I wouldn't have had to smile and appease the ladies," Remington dropped his luggage in the middle of the hall to find his keys.

Laura rolled her eyes at the ceiling as he patted each pocket, searching for his keys. "And what about that waitress in Greece?" Laura was not giving up that easy, "She was practically in your lap during dinner..."

"My lap?! Let's talk about that pool boy at the hotel. He nearly tripped over his own hose ogling you in that scrap of material you called a bathing suit," Remington snapped. "I don't know where those damn keys are!"

Laura dropped her luggage on the floor beside his and pulled her purse from her hip. "Here," she shoved a set of keys at him before she continued, And that bathing suit, MISTER Steele, was the same bathing suit YOU selected for me to wear to the hot tub with Doctor 'hands-on' Gridley when we were on the case at the Golden Dugout! I should know better than to EVER trust you with our MOs. You just love to demean me in typically sexist costumes!"

Remington clenched his jaw and bellowed, "For YOUR information, I pick those costumes for MY entertainment, Miss Holt, not for the benefit of every Tom, Dick, and Randy that comes along!"

"Ahem," the woman who stood in the shadows shifted from one foot to the other, her monotone voice sending a chill through Remington and Laura, who stood frozen in shock. "...Still as harmonious as ever, I see," the woman drawled.

"Ms. Lynch! What an unexpected… um...pleasure!" Laura said sweetly, her tone suddenly saccharin.

Without the slightest acknowledgment of Laura's greeting, Gladys Lynch, the Immigration officer who had been assigned to investigate the Steele's tuna boat wedding, turned the full force of her interrogational tone onto Remington with a barrage of admonishments, "Mr. Steele. It's been nearly four weeks; I've left messages, I've sent memos by courier, I've stood here numerous times waiting for someone to answer, all on the government's dime. Care to inform me of your whereabouts during all this time?"

Remington and Laura stood stock still, like two errant school children and, after an awkward silence, Laura took the reins, "Ms. Lynch, Mr. Steele and I have been traveling. We're just getting back now. Why don't we all go inside and we can explain. Would you get the bags, Dear? And I'll get the door." She snatched the keys that Remington had been clutching and stormed to the door, Gladys following closely behind.

Remington tried to reach after Laura as she whirled away from him, but she was in too much of a huff to notice. He reluctantly gathered the bags and stood miserably, looking like a pack mule, while Laura fumbled for the right key. "Nope, not this one... not this one either..." Gladys hovered over her watching with a smug expression. Laura looked back over her shoulder and laughed nervously, "keys... they all look alike, don't they?"

"Mmm. Evidently."

"Ah, got it! Fourth time's the charm, right?" Laura said triumphantly as she blew upwards on her unruly bangs, and, opening the door a bit too vigorously, stumbled in. With a grand gesture, she waved Gladys in, saying, "Welcome to the Steele residence!"

"Yes, I've been here, if you recall."

"Oh yes, of course!" Laura took her bags from Remington as he wedged his way through the door.

She immediately brought her luggage into the bedroom and dropped everything onto the bed, Gladys following her every step. "What do you mean, you've been traveling? Your absence has been extensive and I've begun assembling the paperwork to process Mr. Steele's deportation," she said pointedly.

Remington had dropped his luggage on the bed across from Laura's. They both looked at Gladys, slack-jawed, then back at each other.

"Why don't I rustle us up some refreshments while you ladies move this into the living room to sort it out? I'm sure you'll all be much more comfortable there," said Remington, his voice rather strained as he guided Laura toward the doorway, leaving Gladys standing in the middle of the room. He poked his head back through the doorway and added, "Coming, Ms. Lynch?"

"I am waiting for an answer." Gladys stood, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.

In the living room, Laura reached for Remington trying to hold him back, whispering, "Rem, we don't have any food here and what do you suggest I say to her?" Ignoring Laura's question, he hastily made his way to the kitchen. Just before he disappeared through the door, he turned and whispered back, "I'll make some coffee and you... just...tell her the truth!"

Laura turned around, her arms waving in exasperation, just in time to see Gladys emerge from the bedroom. Looking around, the stern woman asked irately, "Where did he go now?"

"He's ...um...making coffee," said Laura. She gestured towards the couch, added, "Would you like to sit down?"

"No, I would not like to sit down. I am here to get answers," Gladys snapped.

Remington appeared in the doorway, rubbing his hands together as he interrupted, "So, Ms. Lynch, what brings you to our humble home?"

"I am here to find out where you are coming from and where you have been all this time?" she reminded him with a groan.

Laura began, "Well, we were on our honeymoon..."

"Your honeymoon!?" Gladys echoed in disbelief. "Another one? Didn't you already have one in Mexico?"

"Yes, well, we extended it by a few weeks and several countries," offered Remington helpfully.

Gladys turned to him with a glare, propping her hands on her hips. "What do you mean you extended your honeymoon?"

"Well, we were not satisfied with our time in Mexico and when a case led us to London, we decided to seize the opportunity and try for a honeymoon there. But we weren't satisfied with that either for...er...several reasons...and then, news of my inheritance..."

"What inheritance?" Gladys' interrupted, her frown deepening.

Trying hard not to smile, Laura continued, "Mr. Steele inherited a Castle from the Earl of Claridge. Which now makes him a Lord, but only in Ireland..."

"And in Ireland, where we finally started to feel like we were having a real honeymoon, we actually invited our families to come celebrate with us and we ended up getting married AGAIN with all of them present," Remington concluded with a toothy grin. He and Laura looked at each other and back at Gladys, nodding vigorously.

Gladys covered her forehead with her hands and shook her head. "Just a moment. Since when does 'Remington Steele' have an inheritance, and from whom?" she asked incredulously.

Laura and Remington looked at Gladys, speechless. After another awkward silence, Remington stood abruptly and said hastily, "Er... I think I hear the kettle boiling... Excuse me." He walked swiftly back into the kitchen where they could hear him bustling about.

Laura was looking after Remington as he disappeared through the kitchen door. Reluctantly, she turned back to the cross looking Ms. Lynch who continued her interrogation, "And you got married in Ireland? What about your wedding prior to your unwarranted travels around the globe?"

Laura laughed nervously, "Um, well..."

"And why the second wedding?" Gladys wasn't backing down.

Laura forged on, "Our first wedding was such a rushed affair, and When we reached Ireland, one thing led to another and it felt appropriate to have another wedding with family present."

Laura watched nervously as Gladys whipped out a pen and notebook, saying, "Your family?" She pinned Laura with an icy stare, pen poised.

Laura looked from the pen to Gladys and, clearing her throat, and listed her family members that were present. Gladys's pen worked furiously across the page of the notebook, as Laura continued, "...and some friends from back home and Mildred of course...and...then, there was all of Remington's long-lost kin..."

At this Gladys raised her eyes sharply just as Remington returned, carrying a sparsely laden tray with coffee, and a small dish of cookies. He stumbled slightly as he placed the tray on the table, as Gladys demanded, "Remington Steele has family in Ireland?!"

Remington laughed nervously before offering jovially, "How about a coffee break? Ms. Lynch, please do sit." When she did not move, Remington gently took Laura's elbow and guided her to join him in sitting down. Gladys Lynch stood by austerely while Remington and Laura helped themselves. With a scowl, she needled further, "I would like to know where this extended family appeared from?"

Remington painfully swallowed a mouthful of dried out cookie crumbs while Laura washed hers down with a belt of weak coffee, "Forgive us, we haven't eaten since Athens..." said Laura, her eyes watering slightly as she wolfed down another cookie.

"Athens? Don't tell me..."

Remington cleared his throat, a smile playing at his lips, Laura holding back a smile, as they clasped hands, "Yes, we topped our honeymoon off on Mykonos for three days and two glorious nights." Laura blushed profusely at his final comment.

"Well, I hope you have the necessary documents to prove all of this and the purpose of your travels," Gladys snapped.

Laura and Remington released their hands and fidgeted nervously. "It will take some time for the paperwork to catch up with us," she stated.

Gladys put her pen and notebook back into her purse, "That's unfortunate. And, with this… extended… honeymoon," Gladys continued with a scowl, "would it be safe to assume you have more than one photograph this time?"

Laura shrugged meekly and mumbled, "Also delayed in transit?" and trailed off dejectedly.

But Remington piped up, "We did help the Irish authorities apprehend a notorious drug dealer, though!"

"Oh yes!" Remington Steele always gets his man!" said Laura gleefully, linking her arm with Remington's.

"Indeed! We clapped that rotten Doyle in irons in classic gumshoe style!" he exclaimed.

Laura's smile fell, "Um... Dear... his name was McDonough..."

Remington gave her a side-eye, rebutting, "No, it was Detective McDonough and the drug lord was Patrick Doyle."

Laura argued back, smiling through her teeth and elbowing Remington, "No, it was Detective Inspector Patrick Doyle of the Royal Ulster Constabulary and Edwin McDonough from Dublin."

Then Remington smacked his forehead, "Of course! I always get those two names mixed up!"

Gladys narrowed her eyes at the bickering pair, "Hmmm..., forgive me if I am having a hard time grasping this one. Do you have any witnesses or any proof of these events?"

"Well, we don't have any paperwork handy..." muttered Laura and Remington chimed in, "but Mrs. Steele was involved in a near-deadly mine collapse and suffered a serious head injury... here, Laura..." Remington gently moved her head to the side, trying to push her travel-weary matted and tangled hair out of the way looking for the scar, "See, here, Ms. Lynch..."

Gladys begrudgingly leaned over giving it a cursory glance, and said, "That looks old..."

Remington frowned, saying, "Well, it was a month ago," then he wrapped his arm around Laura's shoulders affectionately giving Laura a gentle noogie, adding, "and after all, she has such a hard head! A serious accident on the job is all in a day's work for her!"

"Thanks, Dear," Laura groaned sarcastically.

"I think I've heard and seen enough for today. You can expect another impromptu visit at either here or your office or even your apartment," Gladys said, angling her cold gaze towards Laura.

Laura sat up straight. "Oh, there won't be any need to stop by my loft. It's going on the market in the next few days," declared Laura, earning a look of surprise from Remington.

"In any event, I'll be in contact soon. I'll show myself out," Gladys left the apartment without saying another word.

Laura and Remington scrambled to follow her out the door, Remington calling after her, "But Ms. Lynch, you didn't have any coffee..."

"No thanks, I don't drink coffee prepared in a kettle."

After she had disappeared through the elevator doors, the Steeles stood, looking in her direction forlornly, "Well, THAT was a disaster. I hope the authorities don't show up on our doorstep tomorrow..." said Laura dejectedly, folding her arms in surrender.

Remington put his arm around her giving her a friendly shake, "Oh, come now, Laura. It wasn't so bad. After all, you and I both know I'm legal and it's just a matter of time before my identity and citizenship is confirmed on paper in this country... a-a-and..." he looked at her with a shy smile, "...it's not as if you've decided to break it off and are packing your bags for your loft..."

"Hmph," Laura teased, giving Remington a sly side-eye, "...I still haven't forgiven you for those sexist outfits."

"But Laura, forgive a man, instantly smitten, capitalizing at every opportunity to exploit the finest iteration of the female sex to cross his path in all his extensive travels..."

An involuntary smile played at Laura's eyes as they opened wide and she said, "Has that line worked for you before, Harry?!"

"Don't know yet..." Laura began to giggle and soon broke into cascades of laughter as Remington swept her off her feet, "... and the name is Remington."

Remington turned towards the door with Laura in his arms, "It seems we haven't yet christened the threshold of our current home, Mrs. Steele."

"What about a hot meal?" Laura asked innocently.

Remington paused, and winked at her, "I just happen to know the number for a local grocer who delivers."

Laura smiled, brushing Remington's errant lock of hair aside as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, "Oh, Mr. Steele, you think of everything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Monday morning, Laura and Remington arrived at the office just before nine. Mildred was already sitting at her desk sorting the large stack of mail. "Morning, morning, morning," Remington called out, drawing a large smile from Mildred.

"Good morning, boss. I figured you two would be late this morning," she stated. "I haven't even made coffee yet. Good morning, Mrs. Steele."

Laura smiled, "Good morning, Mildred, I'll take care of making coffee for you."

Laura took two steps toward the break room when Remington placed his hands on her hips to guide her toward his office, "No need to disrupt Mildred's morning routine, Laura."

Laura tried to stop but he continued to gently push her in the same direction. She held her hands up and insisted, 'It's no trouble, really."

"No way, Mrs. Steele. The last time you made coffee, it took me almost a half hour to scrub the pot clean. I'll make coffee, you two get settled. I left a few files on each of your desks that need to be signed off and Monroe said he would be by later today to go over one of the security contracts that came in," Mildred informed them. "Oh, and I cleared your morning schedules so you would have time to get caught up. Your first appointment is at one."

"What kind of case is it?" Laura inquired, turning back in Mildred's direction.

"Just a run of the mill, wife trying to catch her husband cheating, one," Mildred rolled her eyes. "Personally, I say cut the louse free," she added.

Laura smiled and reminded her, "Well, Mildred, that's not our decision, now is it? All we can do it get the information the client is searching for. It's up to the client to decide what they do with it."

"Well said, Laura. Now, we're keeping Mildred from her work and I'm sure we have enough of our own to keep us busy for a while, so let's move on, shall we?" Remington tried steering Laura into his office once again.

Laura stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at him, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually wanted to get to work?"

Remington chuckled, "Laura, we've been gone for nearly a month. I'm simply trying to get our day started on a positive note so when we leave this evening we will not be buried in files still. Not to mention I made reservations for dinner so I would like to leave on time this evening."

"Oh you did, huh? When did you do that?" Laura folded her arms across her chest.

"Last night, while you were in the shower," he explained, his lips twitching.

Laura raised an eyebrow and asked, "So you're telling me you actually planned dinner for tonight last night?"

Remington leaned forward, pecked her cheek and stated, "I can't have you starving over what was left in my fridge. I was sure Mildred had a full agenda of files on our desks that need our attention this morning, so, if all goes well, I'll be able to finish up and head to the market during lunch today to fully stock the cupboards so we won't have to rely on dinner reservations for the rest of the week."

Laura tipped her head to the side and challenged, "Well, what if I had plans during lunch today?"

Remington folded his arms and pursed his lips. "You didn't mention making plans, naturally, I assumed I was free to run to the market. I suppose if you do, indeed have plans, I could go when you get back."

"Or what if I wanted to go to the market with you? Maybe I need to pick up a few things to make dinner for you," Laura questioned, her hands now propped on her hips.

They were both distracted when Mildred stated, "If you're going to stand there and argue, could you at least take it into someone's office, please? Some of us still have work to do."

Remington pushed his office door open and waited for Laura to pass through. She, in turn, took several steps toward her own office door. She stopped at her door and looked back at Remington. He simply raised an eyebrow and swept his hand in the direction of his office, indicating he wanted her to enter. Laura groaned, rolled her eyes then proceeded to pass into his office. Remington smirked at Mildred before he followed Laura inside, closing the door behind him.

Laura was standing in the center of the office, her arms folded across her chest defensively. "Well?" she demanded.

"Well, what, Laura?" Remington retorted swiftly.

Laura shifted her weight to one side, planted one hand on her hip and gestured with her left hand as she stated, "Did you consider that maybe I'd like to have a say in things?"

Remington leaned against the edge of his desk and replied, "Honestly, Laura, I didn't think it was a big deal. You don't need to make dinner for me. I naturally figured you would probably want to work through lunch like you are prone to do and I would simply run to the market."

Laura looked down at the carpet and sighed, "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not used to this."

"Not used to what, Laura?" he asked softly, pushing forward away from his desk to close the gap between them.

"Caring what you do during lunch? Wondering what we'll be doing together or on our own? Figuring out how we can both prepare for our day without tripping over one another?" she admitted. Remington took another step closer to her but remained silent. "I guess it's going to take a little bit to figure out how we fit together now that things are official, you know?"

Remington couldn't hide the grin that creased his face, "I think we fit together quite nicely, Laura. I mean, I can think of a few other positions we could test out but…" He trailed off when Laura shook her head. "Seriously, Laura, this doesn't have to be difficult. Life hasn't drastically changed to the point where we can't figure this out," he explained.

"But it has changed. We've changed," she insisted.

Remington puckered his lips thoughtfully and assured her, "Laura, we haven't changed. We're still the same two people who left Los Angeles how many weeks ago."

Laura took a step to him and fingered his tie, "I helped you get dressed this morning, despite your efforts to undress me. I waited for you to finish showering so I could shower and get ready for work. We had breakfast together, in your dining room —"

"Our," Remington inserted, breaking her stream of thought.

"Our?" she asked, confused.

"Our dining room. You did tell Ms. Lynch you were moving in and what's mine is yours now," Remington stated. He watched her face flicker as she scoured her memory and the conversation they had the day before. "You are moving in, aren't you?" he asked.

Laura opened her mouth several times before she managed to stutter out, "I thought we already established that."

Remington reached up and held her arms gently as he said, "I know that's what you said yesterday when you stated you wanted to put the loft on the market as well but I wasn't sure if that's how you truly felt. We haven't talked about it really. Are you sure that's what you want?"

Laura gave him a weak smile and an equally weak reply, "Yes?"

Remington pulled her into his arms and muttered, "Oh, Laura, love, what am I going to do with you, eh?" He held her close, her head tucked under his chin when an idea struck him. Leaning back, he said, "I have a suggestion. How about you don't move in?" When Laura's eyes grew wide, he quickly added, "How about, for the moment, we split our time between my apartment and your loft?

"You mean, spend a few days at each?" Laura confirmed.

"Exactly. Then, once we're comfortable with our routines, we can make a decision about our living arrangements, although I will point out your piano will not fit in my living room," Remington teased.

"And your posters don't exactly match the decor of my loft," Laura reminded him.

Remington puckered his lips before a crooked grin creased his face, "Later, maybe we can find something that will fit the two of us."

"You mean move? From your apartment and my loft?" Laura asked.

"Perhaps, although I'm not sure I want to give up either property just yet," he began. When Laura frowned, he added, "Investments, Laura. The apartment is in a great location, so, in the event, we ever need it for… oh, I don't know… visitors, maybe, it's convenient. And your loft… well, where will Donald and Frances have their little romantic overnights away from the kiddies?" he teased.

Laura laughed, "You've really put some thought into this, haven't you?"

"Well, maybe just a little. While we were in Ireland, I have to admit the idea crossed my mind a time or two," Remington stated as he pinched his fingers together, indicating something small.

Laura sighed, "All right then. Maybe later today, after you've gone to the market, I can run to the loft and pick up a few things just to show Ms. Lynch there is more to cohabitating than just my clothes in your closet or your toiletries in my bathroom. A few family photos, strategically placed, maybe some mail changed to the address, and viola."

"And I can reciprocate the idea. Some of my suits in your closets, a shaving kit as well. I don't carry the photographs as you do but I'm sure we could come up with something," Remington agreed.

Another idea struck Laura, "Once we have our official marriage certificate from Ireland, I can have my name changed. That means a trip to the Social Security Administration, the DMV for a new license, and I'll have to make calls to the credit card companies. Not to mention the bank. How do you feel about keeping our checking accounts separate or would you like to combine them?"

Remington shook his head, his mind spinning, "Laura, are you sure you want to do that?"

"Well, I guess we could keep the accounts separate if that's what you want," she stated.

"No, I mean all of it. Change your name… everything?" Remington questioned, astonished.

Laura reached up and touched his face, "I agreed to marry you, Rem, because I love you. And I promised, in that chapel, that I was going to let my actions show you how much I love you. So, yes, I do mean it. Laura Holt is another person now. Laura Holt-Steele was in denial about how she really felt. But, Laura Steele is not only the wife of the famed private detective, Remington Steele, she is also the woman who finally stole his heart." Laura smiled at him, her earlier anger having dissipated entirely.

Remington swiftly pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. They were completely lost in each other when Mildred opened the door and laughed, "The honeymoon isn't over yet, kids. But we do have to get some work done sometime today."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Three weeks passed and Laura and Remington finally settled into routines. Just as Laura suggested, they brought pictures and other items from Laura's loft to Remington's apartment and Remington moved a small stack of his video library to the loft, along with the only photo from their failed Mexico honeymoon. Their caseload slowly increased until they were at capacity and once again they reached out to Monroe for help with security contracts and the installation processes.

The case of the wayward husband kept Laura and Remington on surveillance continuously. In the third week, they finally tracked him down and was able to observe his indiscretion until the early hours of the morning several nights in a row. After the fourth night, they were both exhausted and decided to stop at the loft and to crawl into bed for a few hours. As Remington stripped down to his briefs, Laura changed into a simple cotton nightgown and headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Laura returned several minutes later and crawled onto the bed, her eyes barely open. Remington left her to brush his teeth and teased he was even too tired to try to make any advances at Laura but she was already asleep and never heard him.

At seven-thirty that morning, Laura was the first to hear the banging on the large loft door. She was groggy and confused from lack of sleep, as well as, the cold she had been fighting since they returned from Greece. At first, she thought it was just in her mind, her head pounding from the congestion she was feeling but after several minutes she opened her eyes and groaned. She glanced over her shoulder to see Remington on his stomach, snoring lightly. She groaned again and muttered, "Whoever this is, it better be damn good." She carefully descended the stairs and when the banging began again she snapped out, "Hold on!" Behind her, she heard Remington's snoring stutter as he repositioned himself. Squinting from both the pain in her head and the brightness of the room, Laura yanked the door open. Standing before her was a stern-faced Gladys Lynch. "Hello, Ms. Lynch," Laura groaned.

"Mrs. Steele," Gladys acknowledged with a nod. "I tried Mr. Steele's apartment this morning but there was no answer. I took a chance you might actually be here," she informed Laura.

Laura brushed her hair off her face with one hand and glanced behind her. "Mr. Steele is currently sleeping. Is this important right now?" she asked.

"Well, if Mr. Steele's current immigration status is not of any importance to you, then I guess not," Gladys snapped.

Laura rolled her eyes and tried to explain, "We've had a couple of late nights because of a case we've been working on and this really isn't the best time-"

Gladys held her hand up to stop Laura from saying anything else. "Mrs. Steele, when I spoke with you both almost a month ago, did I inform you I would be dropping in unexpected?" she commanded.

"You did, but-" Laura stated but stopped when Gladys held her hand up again.

"And, during that conversation, did you or did you not state you would not be here, at this loft, as you would be putting it on the market, I believe your exact words were?" Gladys questioned firmly.

Laura closed her eyes and groaned, "Yes." She took a breath and pleaded, "If you would just give me a minute to explain, I'm sure you'd understand why we're here."

"I'd like to hear what Mr. Steele has to say. That is, if he really is here," Gladys stated.

Laura swept her hand in the direction of the couch and said, "You'll have to give me a minute to wake him. And I'll assure you, he's not going to be happy about this."

"It's not my job to make him happy, Mrs. Steele," Gladys sat stiffly on the edge of the couch.

Laura trudged up the steps and glanced over at Gladys before she sat on the edge of the bed. Remington was still on his stomach, only now, her pillow was tucked under his arm, against his ribs. "Rem," she shook him gently but the only response she got in return was another stuttered snore. She shook him again and tried to pry the pillow from under him but he only held it tighter and rolled over onto his side. Laura exhaled and snapped, "Mr. Steele!"

Remington opened one bloodshot eye and groaned, "Really, Laura? Can't we sleep for another hour? The office will survive even if we are a few minutes late this morning."

Laura shook her head and said, "We have a visitor this morning."

"Well, tell our visitor to go away and come back at a reasonable hour," he stated as he tried to go back to sleep.

Laura nudged him again, "It's Ms. Lynch from Immigration."

Remington pressed his eyes closed tightly before he opened them and rolled over onto his back. He scrubbed his face with his hands, ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled, "All right. Get some coffee started and I'll be down in a minute."

Laura nodded, "You get the coffee started, I'm going to take something for my head."

"Still? Do you think you're pushing yourself too much? Maybe you need a day off to just rest… or a trip to the doctor's perhaps?" Remington suggested.

"Gladys Lynch, Mr. Steele," Laura stated before standing up and walking back down the steps. "Ms. Lynch, Mr. Steele will down in just a minute but if you'll excuse me." She headed back up the steps, entered the small bathroom and closed the door.

Remington stood and looked around the bedroom. He couldn't immediately find the pants he had on the night before but as he stood in the center of the space he realized Gladys was staring at him with an odd look on her face. A quick glance down at his briefs, Remington smirked and called out, "Please, just give me a minute to make myself presentable, Ms. Lynch." He opened one of the drawers and found a pair of jeans. He pulled them on and grabbed a sweatshirt out of another drawer. He yanked it over his head and started toward the stairs but noticed the bed still in disarray. He stopped, straightened out the blanket and muttered, "Presentable at best." He jogged down the steps and announced, "Good morning, Ms. Lynch." He headed directly to the small kitchenette and began pulling the coffee out of the cabinet. "What brings you here to the loft so early this morning?" he questioned as he scooped the grounds into the coffee maker and filled the reservoir with water.

"As I explained," Gladys Lynch began, "Impromptu visits are part of our investigation." She watched him intently as he moved from one area of the kitchen to another, pulling coffee mugs, saucers and spoons out of cabinets and drawers. "Have you located your marriage certificate yet?" she demanded.

Remington nodded, "Yes, it has arrived, finally. It is at our flat at the Rossmore. I can have a copy sent to your office later this afternoon if that is satisfactory."

"That will be fine. I'll be expecting it," Gladys replied. She watched him for several more minutes as he pulled several items from the refrigerator. He dropped two slices of toast in the toaster before she asked, "How long have you and Mrs. Steele known each other?"

Remington exhaled and said, "Known each other? Well over five years."

"And precisely how long would you say you've been in a relationship?" she questioned again. From the other side of the room, they both heard the sound of the shower turn on.

"Hold that thought, Ms. Lynch," Remington held up one finger as he crossed the room and jogged up the steps. He knocked on the door and called out softly, "Laura? Do you really think this is the best time to be showering?"

Laura cracked the door open and explained, "I'm not showering. I just thought the hot steam might help my head a little. Give me a few minutes."

"All right, all right," Remington muttered with a nod. He plastered a smile on his face and returned to the living area where Gladys Lynch's pinched face watched him. "My wife will be down in a few minutes. She's been fighting a cold since we've returned and being as stubborn as she is, she's refusing to admit she may need to visit a doctor," Remington grinned. "Where were we?" he asked. He began pouring the coffee and held up the carafe. "Coffee?" Gladys shook her head no and waited for him to answer her question. "Right, how long have Laura and I been in a relationship. Well, that's hard to define exactly. We'd been together on and off for about four years before committing to each other completely," he explained.

"You know, you can learn a lot about a couple by watching them move around at home and considering this isn't your primary home, I have to say I am impressed at the ease in which you seem to have here," Gladys informed him. She stood stiffly and adjusted her purse on her shoulder, "You'll be seeing me again, Mr. Steele." Without another word, she stood at the door and waited for Remington to open it for her.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait and speak with my wife?" Remington asked, his hand still on the door.

"No, I've seen enough today," Gladys snapped. Remington gave the door a solid jerk, watched Gladys disappear down the stairs before he closed the door behind her.

Laura appeared at the top of the steps, her hand rubbing her forehead, "Where'd she go?"

"She stated she had seen enough and we'd be seeing her again," Remington stated. He took one final gulp of his coffee and suggested, "Let's say we go back to sleep for a few more hours, eh?"

"I'm awake, let's make the best of this. Get an early start to our day," Laura replied before she sneezed.

"Gesundheit. Laura, you really should get some rest," he stated.

Laura closed her eyes and shook her head, "Work, then rest."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Honestly, Laura, I don't know why you won't just give in and go," Remington complained as they opened the door to the office. Mildred looked up from her desk, amused by the scene before her.

Laura was only steps behind, rubbing her head with her fingers, her other hand full of tissues. "I told you, it's just a cold with a little bit of sinus pressure. I'll be fine," she muttered as she trudged across the waiting area to her office door.

"You've been saying that for almost three weeks now. I'm pretty sure at this point, the medicine you picked up at the drug store has stopped working and you need something stronger. Good morning, Mildred," Remington paused at Mildred's desk to acknowledge her.

"Good morning, Chief, Mrs. Steele. You're still not feeling better? You really should go see a doctor at this point," Mildred agreed.

Laura threw her hands in the air, "It's a conspiracy. I think you two are conspiring against me to get me out of the office." Laura narrowed her eyes, ignoring the shooting pain the expression was causing, "What are you two up to?"

Mildred dropped the envelope she was holding and crossed her arms over her chest, "Now wait one minute. You've been complaining about this cold since you and the boss got back from Greece. You must have picked up something on the plane and you should probably go see a doctor now. You probably have a sinus infection."

Remington snapped his fingers, stating, "Exactly what I said, Mildred. She's been up the last two nights complaining her head hurts to lay down, hurts to sit up, hurts to do anything! I'm surprised she was able to do any surveillance through all that complaining."

"Really, Mrs. Steele, you should go. I'll take you down to the clinic if you'd like, so you don't have to go alone," Mildred offered, sounding genuinely concerned.

"But we've got clients coming in. I can't just leave!" Laura groused.

"Laura, Laura, Laura, do you think you're going to make a good impression to those said clients if you are moaning each time you move? Or, God forbid, you start sneezing again? Remember the other night at the market? The woman in line before us couldn't move away fast enough," Remington stood and put his hands on her shoulders. "Go with Mildred and I'll hold down the fort."

"No, I'll be fine. I just need-" Laura began but Mildred cut her off, "You need a strong antibiotic to knock that bug you have loose from your system."

"You're exactly right, Mildred. We've been married almost a month and she's been sick for most of it. I know marriage is supposed to be in sickness and in health but this… well… I didn't think I was going to start getting the cold shoulder so soon," Remington complained.

Mildred shook her head, "Oh, Boss, I'm sure it's not that bad. At least you have a warm body beside you at night."

Remington folded his arms and sat on the edge of Mildred's desk as he lamented, "A warm body does me no good if I'm resigned to a cold shower because that warm body is feverish."

Mildred pointed a pencil at Laura and stated, "You really should see a doctor, Mrs. Steele."

Laura shook her head gently, instantly regretting it as she pinched the bridge of her nose and asked, "Who's coming in this morning, Mildred?"

Mildred looked at the appointment list on her desk and announced, "Only one client at ten-thirty. Evan Stimpson. Looking for …. I'm not sure if my notes are right but it says here, he is looking for a painting of his mother? Boss, you have any idea what that means?" Mildred looked up at Remington, batting her eyelashes.

Remington leaned over Mildred's desk as he read her notes and repeated the name, "Stimpson, Evan Stimpson. No, not ringing any bells. Laura? Do you remember this? It looks like it might be your handwriting."

Laura looked down at the page and thought for a few seconds before nodding. "Yes, now I remember. It was accidentally sold at an estate sale and he wanted us to find the person who purchased it," she explained as she placed the book back on Mildred's desk.

"See, no reason you should have to spend all day being miserable for that. I can take care of it, no problem. So, you and Mildred head down to the clinic and see what the good doctor can do for you, eh," Remington steered Laura toward the door as Mildred jumped up and grabbed her purse.

Later that afternoon, Laura returned with Mildred carrying a small bag from the pharmacy. She found Remington in his office, the door wide open. "Well, what did the doctor have to say?" Remington questioned.

Laura leaned her hip against the side of his desk. She traced the edge with her nail and admitted, "He said I have a sinus infection."

Remington raised his eyebrows and interjected, "And?"

"And I probably picked something up on the plane, combined with the busy schedule we've had since we got back, I should take a day or two to rest."

Remington stood slowly and leaned on his hands, "Which is precisely what Mildred and I have been trying to tell you. A couple of days rest and you'll feel good as new."

Laura groaned, "But we still have so much catching up to do, and there's all the paperwork that needs to be finished, not to mention the new cases… Speaking of new cases, how did the appointment go this morning?"

"Fine, although, I declined the case," Remington informed her.

"You declined it? Why?" she questioned, her voicing raising an octave.

Remington blinked several times then stated, "Because we simply didn't have enough information to find the painting. It was a simple cash exchange. He never even saw the actual buyer. His six-year-old son took the money. I suggested he take out an ad in the newspaper."

Laura looked down and uttered, "Oh."

"So, since the rest of our afternoon is free, I am taking you home, making you a cup of tea and tucking you into bed for the remainder of the day. You can nap, watch a movie, your choice," Remington stated firmly.

"But-" Laura lifted her head, "No buts!" Remington insisted.

"We have so much paperwork to finish," she groaned again.

Remington looked at her and took pity on her forlorn expression, "All right. We can bring home some of the paperwork IF-" he stopped when he saw a slight smile crease her face. "If you promise to rest while you're working on it. I'll even let you choose the movie."

Laura nodded slowly, "Thank you. But I do have one request."

"And what's that?" Remington replied with a grin.

"I will rest, on the couch or in bed or anywhere else, only if you agree to –" Laura began but Remington's silly grin stopped her.

Remington frowned when Laura paused and asked, "What? What am I agreeing to, Laura?"

"I'll rest if you agree to make me your chicken soup," she declared with a smile.

Remington laughed loudly as he agreed, "For you, my lovely bride, I'll do anything." He quickly straightened up the stack of paperwork on his desk and tucked it under his arm. "Ready?" he asked.

Laura linked her hands into his free elbow and laughed, "You're awfully chipper for a guy who's taking his sick wife home to work from home."

Remington guided Laura into the foyer of the office where Mildred sat and explained, "Simply knowing you will be getting some rest makes me a happy man. Mildred, I will be taking Mrs. Steele home for the remainder of the day to rest and she will remain there for the next day or so. Please hold any appointments until the end of the week."

"Will do, Boss. Should I expect to see you tomorrow morning?" Mildred asked innocently.

Remington glanced at Laura, now staring at him, and nodded, "Yes, of course. I'll be here straightaway. After all, Monroe and I have two security contracts that need to be finalized and there's the matter of those blueprints he asked me to take a look at."

Laura looked at him, confused, and asked, "What blueprints?"

"For another job. Something personal, nothing to bother yourself with, Laura," Remington dismissed the topic. "See you in the morning, Mildred," he stated and hurried Laura out of the office to the elevators.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Ah, Monroe, you've done it, my good friend. These plans are perfect," Remington announced as he studied the blueprints before him. "And you're sure the contractors are all on the up and up? Licensed and all that?"

"No worries, Mick. I did a thorough check on all the contractors just like you asked," Monroe assured him. "I know how particular your lovely bride can be, so I went ahead and had the contractor draw up a schedule… a timetable of sorts. If all goes well, and she approves of your design ideas, they can begin within the month."

Remington dropped the blueprints onto his desk and scrubbed his mouth with one hand. "Yes, well. I haven't told her about any of this just yet. I wanted it to be a surprise," he admitted.

Monroe threw his head back and laughed loudly, "You are a glutton for punishment, my old friend. You had me commission these plans, arrange for contractors and you haven't even told her yet?"

Remington carefully rolled the blueprints back up and tucked them into the cardboard tube on the corner of his desk. "Yes, well, as that very well may be, when it comes to my wife, it's worth every minute," he stated with a smile. He placed the tube under his desk and rubbed his hands together.

"Speaking of Laura, where is she? I haven't seen, nor heard her once this entire time," Monroe stated as he looked around, expecting to see Laura appear any moment.

"My wife is home, resting. She's had a nasty cold since we've returned from Greece and Mildred and I finally convinced her to see a doctor yesterday. She's been given a hearty dose of antibiotics and a prescription for rest," Remington explained.

Monroe shook his head with a grin, "How's she taking it?"

Remington pursed his lips, "Well, I managed to keep her on the couch most of the evening with the promise of chicken soup for dinner and this morning, I left her sleeping like a baby. She called when she woke, complained she wanted to come in until I assured her, I left a full stack of paperwork on the dining room table for her to go through provided she does it from the comforts of the Rossmore."

"And how did she respond?" Monroe teased.

"She informed me, in not so many words, that I had best complete all my paperwork or else I'll be running surveillance alone on our next case. Which, by the way, is due in any time now, my old friend, so I must end our conference," Remington stated with a nod. He stood slowly and offered his hand to Monroe who gladly squeezed it once before he reached out and patted Remington's shoulder.

"I'll wait to hear from you, Mon Cher," Monroe exhaled. "Until then."

"Until then," Remington smiled and watched Monroe exit his office. He could hear Monroe politely say goodbye to Mildred as he passed by. Several seconds later, his intercom buzzed. "Yes, Mildred."

"Hey, Chief, your one o'clock called and he's running a few minutes late. I'm going to run down to pick up something for lunch. Can I get you anything?" Mildred's voice drifted through the speaker.

Remington tapped one finger on the desk and said, "I'll grab something after that appointment shows up. What was he coming here for again?"

"He's looking for something. Wouldn't give me a whole lot more than that," Mildred stated.

Remington frowned, "Looking for something, eh? All right, thanks, Mildred."

"I'll be back soon, Boss," Mildred informed him before he heard the distinct click of the intercom disconnecting. He watched as Mildred pulled her coat on and headed out of the door.

Remington picked up the phone and dialed his apartment number and waited as the phone rang twice. He started to hang up the phone when he heard Laura answer, "Steele residence." "Oh, how I've missed the sound of your voice this morning, Laura," Remington teased.

"Well, it's nice to hear from you, too," Laura replied with a gravelly voice. She was propped up on the couch, a box of tissues beside her and a cup of tea on the coffee table. "How has your day been?"

"Well, I've finished off most of the files Mildred left on my desk, had a meeting with Monroe regarding the last few security contracts he was working on and now I'm currently awaiting our one o'clock who is apparently running late today. How are you feeling?" Remington rattled off.

Laura inhaled loudly, coughed a few times then replied, "No worse for the wear, I guess. I had a nice soak in the tub with plenty of steam to help clear my head and now I'm on the couch with some tea, just beginning to go through the files you left for me."

Remington sighed, "Just don't do too much. Rest, remember, that's why you're home and I'm here."

"Don't worry, I'm still so tired from lack of sleep I don't think I could do too much. What time do you think you'll be back?" she asked.

Remington checked his watch and thought, "Well, with any luck, I'll be out of here as soon as this client gets here. Mildred has a few things she's working on, some research she said. I'll tell her to go as soon as she's done. Can I stop and get you anything on my way?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm just going to finish up these reports and try to take another nap," Laura said softly.

"How about dinner tonight? Soup again or are you in the mood for something else?" Remington questioned.

Laura settled back against the pillows on the couch and rested her arm above her head as she thought. "I don't know. What do you think?" she finally breathed.

"Something light yet filling all the same. Ah, I know. That new place down on Westwood. I could pick up some thin-sliced pizza and salad perhaps? All the toppings you wish," he suggested.

"Mmmm, pizza does sound good. All right, you decide the toppings, only no anchovies," Laura declared. "I'm going to get back to finishing these reports before they finish me. I'll see you later."

Remington smiled, "I'll look forward to it. Oh, and one more thing, Mrs. Steele."

"What's that, Mr. Steele?" Laura replied.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," he stated. "I'll see you at home." Remington hung up the phone just before he heard someone enter the foyer.

"Hello?" a man's voice called out. "I'm sorry I'm late. I had a one o'clock appointment with Mr. Steele?"

Remington quickly sidestepped his desk and straightened his tie as he moved through the doorway, "Hello there. I'm Remington Steele. How can I help you, Mr…?"

"Clark. Russell Clark and I really need your help," the man stated.

"Here, come, come. Into my office," Remington guided the man into his office before he leaned against the edge of his desk. "Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Clark?"

Russell Clark sat across from Remington nervously. He was a small man with a thin build, grey hair and a thick bushy mustache. He wore thick-rimmed glasses which he continuously adjusted on his face. He looked over his shoulder at the empty foyer before he stated, "I need your help finding something for me. Well, it's not really for me, it's for a friend of mine."

"All right, what is it exactly you are looking for?" Remington questioned.

"Well, I need to find the key to a safety deposit box," Russell explained.

Remington furrowed his brow for a moment then asked, "And where precisely is this key supposed to be?"

Russell pulled an envelope out of the inside jacket pocket of his brown herringbone tweed suit and said, "That's the thing. I'm not really sure. I mean Johnny, that's my friend that needs help, sent me this letter asking me to find the key based on the clues in the letter only I'm not real good at this kind of thing. You see, I'm an accountant for a small business. I deal with balance sheets and bank statements, not clues."

Remington ran his hand along his tie and asked, "Your friend Johnny. Why does he need you to find this key for him?"

"Honestly Mr. Steele, I haven't heard from Johnny in almost twelve years. Then, out of the blue, last week, I got this letter from him. Only thing is there's no return address, no way for me to get in touch with him," Russell revealed.

Remington furrowed his brow and asked, "So, what is it he wants you to do with the key once you find it?"

Russell pulled the single sheet of paper from the envelope and read, "It says here he wants me to take the contents of the box to the FBI. That's it."

"Can I see that letter?" Remington asked as he held his hand out.

"Of course, that's why I came to you in the first place. You're the best around, and well, Johnny was a good friend of mine and from the sounds of things, he needs help. The way I look at it, why not get the best help I can. Right, Mr. Steele?" Russell asked.

Remington smiled as he skimmed the contents of the neatly printed letter. "Well, Mr. Clark, it appears you have come to the right place. Just a quick question though. He mentions the movie, Point Blank. Any ideas why?"

Russell nodded enthusiastically, "That was his favorite movie. He watched part of it being filmed down in the flood basins."

Remington scrubbed his jaw for a moment and asked, "But what does that have to do with the key?"

"That's where I need your help. He says the answer to where the key is, can be found in the movie," Russell stated.

"A movie, eh?" Remington muttered with a shake of his head. "Well, I'll have to confer with my associate before we make any decisions, you understand."

Russell nodded nervously, "I hope you can help me. I don't want to let Johnny down. He was always good to me back in the day and I do miss him so I wanna help him."

Remington slood slowly, handed Russell back the letter, and smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Clark. I'll take the liberty of explaining everything to my associate and I'll get back to you in a day or two with an answer. Let me see you out," he stated. He dropped his arm across Russell's shoulders and guided him back into the agency foyer.

Russell stopped just before the door and added, "Mr. Steele, I hope Johnny isn't in any real trouble. When he just disappeared, well, I thought the worst had happened to him, you know. And to know now that he's alive and just needs help… I need to know what happened all these years."

Remington nodded once more, "I understand. You'll hear from us soon, I promise that. After all, my word is my bond."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Remington stopped at the video store and purchased the 1967 movie, "Point Blank", before he picked up their dinner order and headed to the apartment. He found Laura asleep on the couch, a file slowly sliding off her lap. As silently as he could, he placed their pizza into the oven, set the temperature to warm, and placed their salads in the refrigerator. He quietly crossed the room and gently closed the folder before he lifted it off her and placed it on the coffee table along with the movie. Laura only shifted slightly with a quiet snore, drawing a small grin from Remington.

Remington pulled at his tie as he headed into the bedroom before he stripped off his suit. He pulled on a pair of track pants, a simple white t-shirt, and a matching jacket. Padding barefoot back into the kitchen, he started the water to make tea. He heard Laura calling out to him groggily several minutes later, "Rem? Are you home?"

He poked his head out of the doorway and called back softly, "I'm here. Just making some tea. How are you feeling?"

Laura brushed her hair off her face and blinked several times, "Better, I guess."

"Tea?" Remington asked earning a small nod in return. He ducked back into the kitchen and several minutes later he returned carrying two piping mugs of tea. Laura moved her feet to give him space to join her on the couch before she graciously accepted the hot drink. She sipped it slowly as he made himself comfortable beside her.

"How was the client meeting you had?" Laura asked between sips.

As Remington nodded, he bounced his teacup, dribbling it down his chin. He raised his hand to swipe at the droplets as he said, "Good. He's looking for a key to a safe deposit box."

"Oh? And does he have any idea where to look for this key?" Laura asked, her curiosity piqued.

Remington reached forward and lifted the movie case off the table. "He said the clues are in this movie," he replied with a lopsided grin.

"He did, did he?" Laura questioned. Her mind began swimming with all the reasons Remington could have had to actually watch the movie, none of with included clues to a new case.

Remington took another sip of his tea and nodded enthusiastically, "He did. He received a letter from an old friend that stated the clues could be found in the movie. So, would you like to eat while we watch for a change or sit at the table and watch after?"

"Let's eat while we watch. It's been so long since I've seen it, I'm not even sure I remember the plot," Laura admitted.

"Well, let's see… Point Blank, Lee Marvin, Angie Dickinson, MGM, 1967. Walker is a lone gangster who is double-crossed and left for dead. He tries to retrieve the money that was stolen from him by the rest of the gangsters and he enlists the help of his wife's sister. And if memory serves me correct, there is a death scene that was filmed in the LA River basins. An assassination gone wrong," Remington rattled off slowly.

"That's right! That's how I knew about the tunnels," Laura stated enthusiastically.

Remington's head snapped to the side as he demanded, "That's how you knew about the tunnels? From a death scene filmed for a movie?"

Laura chuckled, her voice cracking as she stuttered from a laugh to a cough, "No, no, no. My father…" She immediately sobered as the reality of what she was saying hit her.

"Your father what?" Remington pressed, genuinely interested in what she had to say.

Laura looked down and tore at the tissue in her hand, "My father was the one who brought me down there when I was a kid. It became a fun place to play, running through the tunnels, hide and seek, that kind of stuff."

Remington stilled her hand with his, "And let me guess, you never told your mother, did you?"

"Mother? She would never have allowed it," Laura declared. "No, that was our place, my father and I."

Remington pressed his lips together before he scrubbed his face with one hand, "Laura, if you think this case is going to drudge up old memories, maybe we shouldn't take it."

"No, I'm a professional. I can put my personal feelings aside for a case. Now, Mr. Steele are we going to watch the movie and see what clues we can glean from it or not?" Laura stated.

Without a word, Remington peeled the plastic wrapping off the movie and pushed it into the VCR before he continued into the kitchen. As the previews for other movies ran, he retrieved the pizza from the oven and their salads and carried everything into the living room. He went back into the kitchen and got two bottles of sparkling water along with two glasses. He settled himself again and opened the pizza box.

Laura inhaled and hummed happily, "Pepperoni, pepper and sausage, Mr. Steele?"

"Ah, your sense of smell is slowly returning. A good sign," Remington commented before Laura took her first bite. "And your appetite too, it appears," he teased.

Laura chewed the large mouthful of pizza slowly as he handed her a napkin. "Thank you," she mumbled around the food in her mouth. "This is so good," she declared once her mouth was finally cleared.

Remington smiled in her direction just as the opening credits of the movie began. They watched the ninety-minute movie carefully, each making mental notes as to what clues they could possibly find. When the movie was over, Remington turned the television off. He sat back down and sighed, "So, what do you think?"

Laura pushed her empty dish onto the coffee table and declared, "I'm stuffed."

Remington couldn't hide his laughter before he asked again, "What do you think about the case, Laura?"

"Oh. Well, there's not much to go on other than the idea the tunnels and basin might have something do to with it. I mean, most of the movie wasn't even filmed in Los Angeles. So, my guess, is we start near the 6th Street bridge and go from there," Laura stated.

"6th Street bridge, eh? Alright, I'll let Mr. Clark know we've agreed to take the case and we will do our best to find this key he's searching for," Remington agreed.

Laura sighed sleepily, "Good, we'll start first thing in the morning."

Remington stood and gathered their dishes as he stated, "Not quite, Mrs. Steele. The weather forecasters are predicting some pretty nasty weather for the next few days. You don't need to get sick all over again after you're just beginning to feel better. We'll start Monday."

"Monday?!" Laura exclaimed.

"Yes, Monday. This will give me time to contact Mr. Clark once more to confirm and for you to rest another day or two," Remington insisted.

Laura rolled her eyes and groaned loudly, "You know, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm exhausted, I'd say we head over there right now."

Remington shook his head, "Which is exactly why we are _not _heading over there. So, I'd say another nap is in order for you, love, while I take a run to the dry cleaners before the weather turns."

"Fine," Laura grunted. She settled herself back against the pillows, knowing it wasn't going to do her any good to argue with him. She sighed loudly once more before she closed her eyes. Remington disappeared into the bedroom and returned several minutes later, carrying a dry-cleaning bag. He found Laura already asleep. He kissed her forehead softly, immediately noticing she didn't feel as warm as she had the previous days, and with a smile, he slipped out the front door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The alarm blared beside Laura at six o'clock on Monday morning. She quickly rolled over and slid the button to the off position. Beside her, Remington grunted, shifted his leg once and sighed as he settled back to sleep. Laura smiled and thought back over the last few days. Just as predicted, the unusually heavy rain came down hard for several days, leaving minor flash floods in its wake. Laura spent most of the days sleeping on and off. By Sunday morning, she finally felt more like herself, the pain in her sinuses practically gone. Her appetite returned with a vengeance and even Remington made a laughing comment as she got her second serving of ice cream after dinner the previous night.

Laura stretched, arched her back slightly and sighed happily. She rolled onto her side to watch her husband as he slept in the dimly lit room. She watched, fascinated, as his dark eyelashes twitched and the muscle in his jaw flexed even in his sleep. With one finger, she traced the shadow of his beard. He batted her hand away, drawing a soft giggle from her lips. She continued to trace the dark swirls of hair on his chest until he finally opened one eye. "Good morning, Mr. Steele," she announced softly.

"It's early, Laura. We don't need to be in the office for several more hours," he groaned before closing his eyes again.

Laura continued moving her fingers along his chest, working her way down his abdomen, partially hidden under the sheet. "I know," she whispered in a sultry tone.

Remington's eyes snapped open when her fingertips found the waistband of his pajama pants. "Have something on your mind this morning?" he teased.

"Maybe," Laura responded. "It's been too long, don't you think?" She pushed forward and brushed her lips against his. He quickly wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her onto his chest. Laura squealed in response.

"I agree," Remington stated. He pressed his hand against her head to hold her lips to his. "I most certainly agree," he muttered again.

Laura challenged his kisses with a few of her own and it wasn't long before she found herself divested of her cotton nightgown and Remington was hovering above her. The only sound that filled the room for a while were the gasps and cries of the lovers. When Remington finally collapsed beside her, his chest heaving as much as hers, did he comment, "Too long was just right."

Laura giggled long and loud before she glanced over at the clock. She sobered up quickly when she saw it was nearly seven-thirty. Knowing her husband's penchant for dilly-dallying in the morning, she scrambled off the bed to get into the shower. She hoped he would follow, which, in turn, would speed up the morning process of getting ready. He didn't disappoint her as minutes after she stepped into the streaming water, he stepped into the shower with her.

"Decided to join me, Mr. Steele?" Laura teased.

Remington hugged Laura from behind, allowing the water to cascade over both of them. "Well, I was hoping you'd consider another round, Mrs. Steele," he teased.

"Work, Mr. Steele. I've missed too much the last week, I can't afford to miss anymore. After all, what would my boss think?" she retaliated with a semi-serious face.

Remington kissed the sensitive spot of her neck just before the delicate curve of her shoulder began. "I think he may just forgive you this once," he whispered.

Laura shimmied her shoulders and laughed, "Maybe, but he still owes me a new desk chair after our failed honeymoon."

Remington rested his stubble covered chin on her shoulder and groaned, "Really, Laura? You want to bring that up now?"

Laura laughed again, handed him his shampoo and instructed, "Shower. Shave. Get dressed." She reached for her own shampoo and began lathering her hair as he stepped back to give her room.

"You know, Laura, I'm thinking maybe we should start looking for something a bit bigger than the apartment. Something with a larger master bath, perhaps," Remington replied.

Laura rinsed her hair and traded places in the small shower with him. "All in good time, Mr. Steele," she answered. Several minutes later, she patted his shoulder and said, "I'll get some tea started." She stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her thin frame and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Remington alone.

"Wake me up early," he grumbled before he snapped the shower tap to the off position. He wrapped the towel around his waist and moved to the vanity to shave. He continued to mutter his discontent as he ran the razor across his skin. He could hear Laura humming happily in the bedroom. With a sigh, he wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face and neck and inspected his skin for any missed areas. Not finding any, he padded into the bedroom where Laura had just finished buttoning her suit jacket. Hoping he could distract her once again, Remington swept her into his arms and kissed her wholeheartedly.

Laura returned his kiss with several of her own before she patted his chest and stated, "Nice try. We leave in ten minutes." Remington groaned again, exhaled and began pulling his briefs on. He was just tucking his shirt into his dress pants when Laura poked her head in the doorway, "Ready?" Remington nodded and followed her into the living room. "I thought we could swing by the River Basin this morning after we check in with Mildred," Laura stated.

"Maybe we should call Mr. Clark and have him meet us there as well. You know, make him feel like he's contributing and all," Remington added.

"Good plan. Have him bring the letter, so we can go over it again," Laura agreed. She handed Remington a travel cup full of tea. "The Auburn or the Rabbit today?" she asked once they were in the hallway, waiting for the elevator.

"Well, the rain has finally stopped so let's take the Auburn," Remington decided. They rode to the office, making record time despite the normal Monday morning commuter traffic. Entering the office, Remington called out to Mildred, "Morning, Ms. Krebs! Already hard at work, I see."

Mildred, completely focused on the computer, answered back, "Almost done, Chief. Just confirming the last known whereabouts of Jerry Thomas, the latest skip trace. And gotcha! He's not going to get away again!" She tapped a few keys on the keyboard before she turned to face Laura and Remington, patiently waiting to greet her. "Hiya, Mrs. Steele. Looks like you're feeling better than you were a week ago."

"I am, Mildred. Much better, thank you! What do you have on our schedule for this morning?" Laura smiled.

"Bupkis," Mildred stated with a straight face. She glanced over at Remington, standing behind Laura with a smirk on his face. "Why do you look like the cat that ate the canary this morning, Boss?"

"No reason, Mildred. I'm just happy Mrs. Steele is feeling better, so we can get back to work. Oh, can you give Russell Clark a call? Tell him we'd like to meet him by the…" Remington began but paused to confirm the location with Laura.

"The 6th Street Bridge. There's a tunnel nearby we can use to bypass into the basin itself," Laura stated matter-of-factly.

Remington tipped his head to the side and repeated, "There's a tunnel?" Laura nodded to confirm, "Near the bridge?" he continued. Again, Laura nodded. Remington responded with a definitive nod of his own head and stated, "As Mrs. Steele said… We'll meet Mr. Clark by the 6th Street Bridge at say ten o'clock."

"Ten o'clock it is. I left your mail for you on your desk, Mrs. Steele. And the morning paper on your desk, Boss," Mildred replied with a pointed finger at each closed door.

"Thank you, Mildred. Any other messages?" Laura questioned lightly.

Mildred handed her two slips of pink paper. "Just these. One from Frances just asking you to call her and the other from Bernice. She said she'll be back in LA by the end of the month and she wants to get together for lunch."

"Ah, yes, Bernice…" Laura's voice trailed off as she raised an eyebrow in Remington's direction. "Mildred, Mr. Steele and I have been thinking… How would you like, not only a raise but a new position at the agency?"

"A new position with a raise? Are you pulling my leg?" Mildred demanded lightly.

Remington sat on the edge of Mildred's desk and smiled, "Not at all. You've been working hard at your apprenticeship and well, it's about time your work has paid off. If you decide to take the position, you can even have Murphy's old office. A little more private to get things done than out here with all the hustle and bustle happening."

Mildred blinked several times then fired off several questions, "But who'll answer the phones? Greet the clients? Get the mail? Order the supplies?"

"Well, Mildred, that's why Bernice called. She's moving back to Los Angeles and Mr. Steele and I have talked about possibly hiring her to take over as office secretary… only if you agree, that is," Laura explained.

Mildred looked from Remington's smiling face to Laura's hopeful one and tears formed in her eyes. "You'd do that? For me?"

Laura circled the desk and put her arms around Mildred in a hug. "We wouldn't want it any other way. So, what do you say? Murphy's office and a raise?"

"When can I move in?" Mildred exclaimed happily.

Remington clapped his hands together and declared, "As soon as Laura and I get back from meeting with Mr. Clark, we'll sit down and hammer out the specifics."

"Thank you, thank you, both!" Mildred cried, happy tears snaking down her cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Laura scanned the area near the bridge and asked, "Do you see him?"

Remington squinted in the bright light, despite his sunglasses. He leaned to the side to peer further down the street but his view was hindered by a news van parked. Several yards away, a news reporter was preparing to be filmed, the cameraman diligently checking his equipment. "No, not yet," Remington replied. He looked behind them once more at the bridge and lifted his chin once. "With that news crew there, I'm not so sure we're going to be able to get down there inconspicuously, Laura," he stated softly.

"I have to agree with you, Mr. Steele. He's standing too close for my liking. Let's say we wander down a bit, out of range of any prying eyes," Laura suggested.

Remington slipped his hand around her waist with a crooked smile, "Reminds me of our walk through Beverly Hills before we acquired the Auburn. Next, you'll be asking to find a bus stop."

Laura stopped, looked up at him and joked, "I don't need a bus stop to find a reason to kiss you anymore." She pressed up on her toes and planted a brief kiss on his cheek. Remington smiled again and squeezed her against his hip. "Mildred did give Mr. Clark the correct location, didn't she?" Laura asked, drawing his attention back to the reason they were there.

"Yes," he insisted. "And Mr. Clark said he would be driving a small brown sedan type vehicle. I don't see anything like that at the moment," he stated, scanning the area once more.

From behind them, they could hear the news reporter beginning to speak to the camera, "Here we are at the 6th Street Bridge where you can clearly see the floodwaters are just beginning to recede. This has been some of the worst flooding we've seen in recent years but the weathermen insist this is the end of it. There is only scattered rain in sight for the next few days and we can expect to see the water levels rapidly decrease."

"Well, that's good news. I wasn't really looking forward to tromping through the water in those tunnels again," Remington stated.

Laura smiled and peered over the edge of the fence behind them, "Well, it wasn't so bad. I mean, we used to play in the puddles as kids and I survived."

Remington gave his head a sharp shake as he recalled, "Running for our lives with Descoine chasing us through those tunnels was not exactly my idea of a rollicking morning, Laura. If you recall, we almost didn't survive. I'd rather not repeat the process if we can help it at all."

Laura chuckled and agreed, "No, I don't think I want a repeat of that day either, although, I did learn a lot from you."

Remington furrowed his brow and squinted behind his dark sunglasses, "Really? I seem to recall learning quite a bit from you, not the other way around."

"Well, I realized there are more important things in life than the day to day shuffle. It opened my eyes to the thought that maybe something I had been searching for, was right in from of me all the time," Laura explained. "And I realized, there was no one else I'd rather be running for my life with but you."

Remington laughed loudly at Laura's admission until he heard someone calling him from across the street. "Mr. Steele!"

"Ah, it looks like Mr. Clark has finally arrived," Remington stated. He gestured to the man with a simple raised hand before he scanned the area for the news crew. They were still in place, the reporter rambling on about facts from previous flooding events.

"Mr. Steele. I'm so sorry I'm late," Russell Clark stated when he finally reached them. "You must be Mr. Steele's associate," he acknowledged Laura.

"Yes, Laura Steele," she replied with a smile. Laura was finding her new name slipped easily off her tongue now, without any hesitation.

Russell studied Laura for a moment then stated, "You seem familiar to me. Have we met before?"

Laura shook her head, "No, I don't think so. Perhaps you've just seen my picture in the paper with Mr. Steele's, although it's been a while."

"Maybe that's what it is. Anyway… I brought the letter like you asked, Mr. Steele, but I don't know what other clues you think might be in it," Russell said as he pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

Remington took the rectangular package and tugged the paper out gently. He unfolded it and skimmed to the bottom of the letter again. "Here. It states there are clues in the movie, so, naturally we should assume there will be some sort of reference perhaps to the movie around here… if this is indeed where we are supposed to begin." He removed his sunglasses and scanned the area slowly. Across the basin, near the entrance to another tunnel, he could see what appeared to be two letters in graffiti just above the entrance. Remington nudged Laura and pointed casually, "Does that appear to be the letters PB to you? In that circle?"

Laura followed his line of sight. With a smile and a nod, "Why, Mr. Steele, it seems you may have just found our first clue. That circle looks more like a target, wouldn't you say, Mr. Clark?"

Russell leaned his hands onto the fence and studied the small image before bobbing his head enthusiastically, "You're right, Mrs. Steele! That does look like a target!"

"So, it looks like this wasn't a wasted trip after all. We'll have to wait another day or two for the water level to drop a bit more and hopefully we won't have the audience we have today," Remington stated with a smile as the cameraman waved to them. Remington waved back before turning back to Laura. "How about we take our conversation down to that coffee shop over there?" he muttered.

"But I don't drink coffee, Mr. Steele," Russell groaned. "The doctor says it's bad for my ticker, you know."

Remington put his hand on Russell's shoulders and led him away from the fence. "That's all right, Mr. Clark, we're just going to put some space between us and that cameraman. After all, we don't need anyone eavesdropping on our conversation, now do we?" Laura followed closely behind, and added, "Nor do we need to explain our presence here either, Mr. Steele. The last thing we want to do is announce to the local news we are working on a new case."

"Precisely, Mrs. Steele," Remington agreed.

"Actually, I need to get going. I promised my wife I'd pick up her prescription at the pharmacy before three. I don't need her angry with me for forgetting what she told me. Last time I did that, she froze me out for weeks," Russell admitted.

"Weeks?" Remington gasped.

"Hey, when you've been married as long as I have, sometimes that can be both a blessing and a curse," Russell laughed. "Because, I'll tell you, making up after is a whole lot of fun." Laura covered her mouth and tried hard not to laugh at the shocked look on Remington's face after hearing Russell's admission. "I'll be in touch. Keep the letter just in case there's anything else in it you need." With that, Mr. Clark hurried away, leaving Laura and Remington standing alone on the sidewalk.

Laura watched him climb into his car and said, "Well, Mr. Steele, it looks like it's just you and me for the afternoon and no plans. How about we head down to the boardwalk for an afternoon stroll?"

Remington looked at Laura and stated, "Why, Mrs. Steele, it sounds like you want to avoid going back to the office?"

Laura threaded her hand through his bent elbow and tugged him along as she explained, "Mildred isn't expecting us back so soon. I was cooped up in bed for almost a week. I think I could use the sunshine and fresh air."

Remington puckered his lips and added, "And, if memory serves me right, there is a certain cotton candy vendor nearby."

Laura dropped her chin and laughed, "That, too."

Hours later, after Laura and Remington returned home, the news station played the piece on the flooding. A middle-aged man, miles away, watched the screen with little interest until he noticed three people the cameraman had picked up during filming. "No! It can't be!" the man snapped. He stared at the screen as a smiling Laura laughed at an unheard joke and the man inhaled sharply. "She can't find it! Dammit, Russ, what were you thinking?" he exclaimed. His eyes stayed focused on Laura's face as he angrily flung the glass he was holding against the wall, shattering it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tuesday morning, Laura and Remington arrived at the office just as Mildred was hanging up the phone. "Oh, Boss, I wish I had seen you sooner. That was Mr. Taylor calling from London. He said he needs to speak to you right away," Mildred groaned.

"I'll call him back from my office," Remington assured her before he stepped away from her desk.

"I'll get you some coffee and bring it in," Laura nodded in his direction. Remington disappeared into his office and closed the door. "So, Mildred, did you decide on how you want to arrange your new office?" Laura asked with a smile.

Mildred smiled up at her, "I was in there this morning, just moving a few boxes around. What are we going to do with all those old files?"

"I was thinking about that," Laura stated, "And I think we are going to invest in secure storage space. I've already looked into it, and it doesn't cost very much. We could get rid of all these boxes in her, and I'm sure, between the two of us, we could pull other files as well."

Mildred looked at Laura, "Are you sure you want to go through all that trouble?"

"What are you saying, Mildred? Do you not want the job?" Laura questioned.

Mildred shook her head, 'No, I'm not saying that at all. It just seems like it's going to be a lot of work getting this office into shape." She looked around the room at the boxes piled up.

"Mildred, if memory serves me right, you and I have had a few occasions where cleaning up the office makes this look like a piece of cake. Do you remember what the office looked like after Turk tore through here?" Laura teased.

Mildred looked back at her, sheepishly, "I said I was sorry about that."

Laura laughed, slipped her arm around Mildred's shoulder, and gave her a squeeze. "Let's tackle a few boxes this morning. We can stack some in my office for now until we make some real progress," Laura assured her. "Let me just put my purse down and get Mr. Steele some coffee."

"Already brewed and waiting," Mildred smiled. She turned away from Laura and began stacking boxes against the windows, clearing a path beside the desk.

Laura left Mildred and headed into the small breakroom. She poured Remington a cup of coffee, walked into her own office where she deposited her purse on her chair, and headed directly into his office without knocking. "Mr. Taylor, I understand the importance of this matter; however, are you sure you can't overnight the documents for my signature?" Remington paused, then added, "No, no, I understand. Okay, let me clear my schedule for a few days, and I'll be there. I'll give you a ring when my travel plans are set. Thank you, my good man." He hung up the phone and accepted the mug from Laura with a half-hearted smile.

"That doesn't sound good," Laura sighed. She sat on the edge of Remington's desk and waited.

With a sharp shake of his head, he replied, "Mr. Taylor is insisting I travel back to London to sign more papers regarding the foundation along with Lady Catherine. And he feels I need to check in on the renovations now that they are in full swing."

"Oh?" Laura responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I tried, Laura," Remington assured her. "We can't investigate those tunnels until the water levels recede, which is going to be another few days, although, from the weather reports, we're expecting showers on and off until the end of the week. We may have to wait until next Monday at the earliest to investigate anyway. So I'll have Mildred book my flights, and I'll be back in a day or two at the latest."

Laura reached out and adjusted his tie as she said, "I know. I just hate that you have to go alone."

"Well, do you really want to close the office again for a few days?" Remington suggested.

"No," Laura stated. "All right. Have Mildred make the arrangements. I guess Mildred and I can use the time to get her office in order."

Remington smiled, "Ms. Krebs is amenable to the idea of having her own office, I take it?"

Laura returned his smile, "As a matter of fact, she is. But, we have a lot of work to do to clear out all those old case files."

Remington pressed his lips together as the idea he wouldn't have to help crossed his mind. "Well, I'm sure you and Mildred will be more than capable of handling that project. Now, if you don't mind, I need to give Monroe a call to check on the installation for the Connolly House," he stated with a wave of his hand in the direction of his phone.

Laura leaned down and brushed her lips against his cheek. "Mildred and I will be in her office." She left him as he was lifting the receiver, and before she closed the door, she could hear him greeting Monroe.

"Monroe, how are you?" Remington stated cheerfully when his friend answered the phone. When the door latched closed, he dropped his voice to a loud whisper and asked, "Were you able to secure the building permits for me?"

Monroe's deep laugh confirmed his question. "Of course. Have you informed Mrs. Steele of your intentions?" he asked.

"I intend to this afternoon," Remington assured him. "Are there any surprises I need to know about before telling her?"

"None whatsoever. The builders are just waiting on your command," Monroe stated.

"Well, in that case, you can expect to hear from me later today," Remington stated. He could hear Laura and Mildred talking just outside his office door. "I best go before she gets wind of this."

"Until this afternoon, my good friend," Monroe replied with a chuckle.

Remington hung up the phone just as Mildred opened his door, "Okay, Boss, Mrs. Steele said you need me to book you a flight to London. I just need to know about your return flight."

"I'm not exactly sure, Mildred. Once I'm there, I'll let Laura know all the details," Remington sighed.

"That's too bad you have to leave now. But I suppose it's a good thing the only major case you're working on is the one for Mr. Clarke," Mildred sympathized.

Remington pursed his lips and nodded, "Yes, it's a good thing, indeed." As he sat back in his chair, he caught a glimpse of the blueprint tube still hidden under his desk. Remington took a breath and asked, "Are you and Laura buried in boxes yet?"

Mildred smiled as she replied, "We're just getting started."

"Good, good. Well, when Laura has a few minutes, could you send her in here for me, please?" Remington requested.

"Sure thing, Mr. Steele. Is it urgent?" Mildred asked.

"No, nothing urgent, I can assure you," Remington smiled. He lifted the morning paper and lifted his feet onto the corner of his desk. "Tell you what, give me… oh, an hour say… and then ask her to come in."

"You got it," Mildred winked at him before she turned and closed the door behind her.

Exactly one hour later, Laura walked into Remington's office, where he was studying a set of blueprints. "What have you got there?" she asked curiously. She sat on the

"They're blueprints, Laura," Remington replied with a smile.

Laura rolled her eyes, "I can see that Mr. Steele. What are they for?"

Remington puckered his lips and teased, "For?"

"Yes, the blueprints. What are they for?" Laura asked again.

Remington could hear the annoyance in her toney, but he continued his game, "Why, they are blueprints for a house."

Laura groaned softly and shook her head, "Who's house?"

"Um, well, our house…." Remington allowed his voice to trail off.

Laura blinked several times before she responded, "Mr. Steele, I hate to remind you, but we don't own a house."

Remington smiled again as he stuttered, "But we do, well you do. Or, you did."

"If you recall, Mr. Steele, the house I owned was blown up, or did you have a lapse in memory?" Laura questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"And if you recall, the insurance company paid you for the cost of the building, which, if I recall, you used to purchase your loft," Remington reminded her with a toothy grin.

"You were there, you know I did," Laura replied firmly. "So I'll ask again. What's with the blueprints?"

"Well, you still own the land your house stood upon and, well, since we've returned, I've been thinking about our living situation. I thought perhaps you'd like to have one residence, not the two we are currently splitting time at thanks to our good friends at Immigration," Remington teased. He began rolling up the blueprints and tucked them into the paper tube on his desk.

"I don't follow you, Mr. Steele," Laura deadpanned.

Remington stood, slipped his arm around Laura's waist with one hand, and carried the blueprints with the other. "Let's go for a drive, Mrs. Steele."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Remington pulled the Rabbit into the circular driveway where Laura's home once stood. The only indication a house had previously been there was the cement foundation, slightly overgrown with weeds but otherwise well defined. Laura inhaled a stuttered breath as many memories flooded her mind. "Laura? If you don't want this, I can find another piece of land. I just thought-" Remington began, but she cut him off, "No, I can't think of a better place for us to start building our life together. After all, Xenos was told everything is new again, right?"

"Well then, Mrs. Steele, let's take our picnic basket and see what we can envision then," Remington puckered his lips and blew her a kiss as Laura flashed a smile back at him. She climbed out of the car then leaned over the door to get the basket containing a blanket and the lunch they had picked up along the way.

"Can we put the top up, Mr. Steele? These trees have a nasty habit of dropping needles and leaves in my car," Laura explained.

"Of course, of course," Remington stated as he climbed out. He struggled to close the hardtop despite Laura's laughter. "A little help would be nice, Laura."

"I think you have it all under control, Mr. Steele," Laura teased. After several minutes, he managed to snap the top into place. He pulled the cardboard tube from the back seat and pulled out the set of blueprints.

As they walked, he unrolled the blueprints and began pointing to different areas of the foundation, "Here, an open kitchen and dining room with the curved arches of your previous home. There, a formal living room where your piano will hold the place of honor by the front windows."

"Oh, Mr. Steele," Laura smiled at his excitement.

"Laura, that's just the tip of the iceberg. A full bath just off an office suite where your master bedroom once sat," he stated, allowing his words to sink in. Laura looked at him, perplexed until he turned the page to reveal the designs for an entire second floor. "Yes, I took the liberty of adding a second level to our home, give us space to spread out, away from each other if the mood strikes," he explained.

Laura stared at the blueprints, examining each line, each dimension. She looked up into bright blue eyes, sparkling with joy. Without a word, she dropped the basket and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. Remington chuckled as he held her and said, "I take it you find the plans agreeable, Mrs. Steele?"

"Agreeable? I love them! You've thought of everything! An office, a second level, I can't think of anything better!" she exclaimed.

Remington laughed again as he rolled the plans back up and slipped the sheets into the long tube. "I have a few other ideas, but let's take our lunch to the backyard and see what surprises we may find there, shall we?" He extended his arm, which she promptly curled her hand around with a smile.

"Lead the way, Mr. Steele," she said as together, they carefully made their way across the foundation toward the back of the property. The backyard was fenced in, allowing them a bit of privacy. The only remnant of Laura's previous residence was a large shed that sat in the back corner of the yard. From outward appearances, the shed was in good condition.

Remington carried the basket and placed it under a tree near the shed. He walked ten paces and stopped. Turning slowly, he raised his arms and declared, "Right here, Mrs. Steele, our very own soaking pool, complete with stone waterfall." He walked another six paces to his right and added, "And here, a jacuzzi built for ten, natural stone steps, heated with forty-two strategically placed jets in the ergonomically designed seats, hmmm?"

Laura narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head and said, "No pool."

Remington waved his arms around him as he explained, "Laura, think about this, a long day at the office, and together we can unwind out here, a glass of wine in hand, as we soak away our cares for the evening, eh."

Laura crossed her arms and held her ground, "No pool. A jacuzzi, maybe, in our master bath, but no pool."

"But… but… but, Laura," Remington stuttered at a loss for words, shocked she was set against his idea.

"No pool, Mr. Steele, and that's final. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'm absolutely starving. Let's spread out this blanket and enjoy our lunch before we head back to the office, shall we?" she stated. Laura took two corners of the blanket in her hands and began to shake the folds loose when she heard the distinctive clap of thunder overhead. "No, it can't be…." she started, but before she could finish her thought, large wet droplets of rain began to fall.

Remington scampered to where she stood under the tree and made a quick decision. He grabbed the basket in one hand and Laura's hand with the other and pulled her toward the shed. He quickly swung the door open and dragged her inside, out of the sudden downpour. As luck would have it, the shed was empty save for a dusty watering can in one corner and a single lawn chair folded up in the other. The shed was warm, the air a bit musty but otherwise dry.

Laura brushed her hair off her face and looked around. "Well, we can stay here and wait it out for a bit, Mr. Steele, or we can make a break for the car," she said, stating their most logical options.

"We'll be soaked before we even made it to the foundation, Mrs. Steele. Let's spread the blanket out and see if we can wait this out while we enjoy our lunch.," he replied with a nod.

Together, they spread the blanket over the wooden floor. Laura was surprised how solid the floor was, the shed having sat for over two years with no upkeep or maintenance. Remington pulled out a bottle of champagne and two flutes from the top of the basket with a flourish, drawing a smile from Laura. "You came prepared, I see," she teased.

"Well, it is a celebration, Mrs. Steele," Remington smiled back as he poured the golden bubbly liquid into the glasses. He handed one to Laura and said, "A toast."

Laura took the glass and asked, "What exactly are we celebrating?"

Remington laughed as he said, "What aren't we celebrating? Let's see; we're on the verge of beginning construction on our new home, business has been booming since we've returned and if my memory serves me correctly, this is almost our official two-month anniversary of our fishing boat wedding."

Laura laughed softly as she wrapped her arm around his and said, "A toast it is. To us and all the good things that have happened." They sipped their champagne then concluded their toast with a kiss.

Remington hummed happily as he extracted their lunch plates from the basket. He made sure to stop at Laura's favorite Italian restaurant and ordered two dishes of veal scaloppini marsala. Laura closed her eyes as she took her first bite. The veal was so tender, it melted in her mouth. "Enjoying that, Mrs. Steele?" Remington teased. He appreciated how Laura enjoyed good food, equating her reactions to pure physical satisfaction.

"Very much so, Mr. Steele. We'll have to be sure to have this as our first meal once our home is finished," Laura stated between bites.

Remington lifted his napkin and gently wiped a spot of sauce off the corner of Laura's mouth, earning him a kiss in return. He touched his fingers to his mouth as he puckered his lips once more, raised an eyebrow, and stated, "The flavors of our meal pales in comparison to your kisses, Mrs. Steele."

"Is that so?" Laura returned as she licked the rich cream off the fork.

Remington swallowed hard; her simple gesture elicited a maintenance reaction he tried to cover up by clearing his throat. He sipped his champagne and closed up the take-out container, signally he was no longer interested in the food before him. He watched as Laura delicately lifted one more bite to her lips, sliding the small pieces of veal and mushroom off the fork and into her mouth. She chewed the last bite slowly, savoring every flavor before following suit and closing her container as well.

Laura leaned forward to where Remington was reclining on his side and brushed her lips across his. Remington captured her head with his hands and pressed her closer, extending what was meant to be a soft, gentle kiss. Laura shifted her body closer to his without breaking their lips. "Hmmm, have something in mind, Mrs. Steele?" Remington asked against her lips.

Laura lifted her eyebrows then winked as she said, "Just a way to pass the time while we wait for the storm to lighten up." She smiled at him, her dimple deepening as she added, "Unless you'd rather make the dash to the car."

"Not at all, Mrs. Steele. I just wanted to confirm your intentions. After all, I have to be on a plane later this evening, remember?" he prompted.

"Yes, your trip to London, how could I forget. What time is your flight?" Laura groaned. She toyed with the buttons on his shirt as she waited for his reply.

"Not until late. The red-eye flight to London. I'll be meeting with Mr. Taylor first thing in the morning, a check on the property and the renovations, a visit with Catherine and then I should be home the day after I would assume," Remington ticked off his agenda as he kissed her cheeks, her eyes, and her lips.

Laura slipped her hand inside his shirt and toyed with the hair on his chest as she whispered, "Well then, Mr. Steele, we should take advantage of what little time we have."

"Why, Mrs. Steele, your tone sounds positively lascivious," he teased. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**This chapter rated NC-17. If you are under 18 or are not comfortable, please move to the next chapter.**

Laura slowly unbuttoned the rest of his dress shirt and pulled the material from the waistband of his pants. "Remember Ruggles and the barn. We never did finish what we started," she tantalized between kisses. Remington closed his eyes and sighed at the sensations she was drawing from his body. He looked out across the yard to be sure they couldn't be seen from the street. He could barely see the car in the distance through the heavy rain. Feeling they were safely tucked away, he leaned forward and assaulted her mouth with a kiss.

Laura hummed happily as he pushed her onto her back and began trailing kisses down her neck toward the v neck of the shirt she was wearing. She arched her back when he slipped his arm underneath her shoulders, cushioning her from the hard floor. Her hands created their own path, warming his back as she caressed his bare skin. She found his belt and began tugging on the soft leather. Remington pushed back, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Laura? How far are you going with this?"

With a mischievous grin, Laura gave his belt a solid yank as she slipped it loose. She pushed Remington onto his back with a chuckle and straddled his hips as she kissed him. "Hmmm, Mr. Steele, are you saying you want me to stop?" she asked.

"On the contrary, Mrs. Steele, your spontaneity is taking us in a direction I was unsure you'd be willing to continue," Remington stated as he puckered his lips and bounced his eyebrows twice.

Laura licked and nipped at his collarbones as she teased his skin. She could feel him responding beneath her as she shifted slightly, sprinkling kisses across his chest and stomach. She was startled when she felt him grip her arms and pull her upward with a growled warning, "Lau-ra, how far are you going with this because I'll not be holding back much longer."

Laura laughed as she replied, "You won't need to, Mr. Steele, take my word on that." Without any further explanation, she unbuttoned his pants, ticked his zipper downward, and pushed the material aside. His erection was straining against the material of his briefs, well defined by the tight fabric. She flashed a glance upward before she snaked her fingers under the band and pushed the cotton material downward, revealing her target. She leaned forward and licked his exposed length, drawing a groan from Remington. She felt his hand bury in her hair when she took him in her mouth.

Remington was breathing shallowly, his restraint hanging on by a thin strand while Laura worked him with her mouth and hands. After only a few minutes, he pulled her upward with a growl, flipping her onto her back on the blanket. "Enough of that, love, else we'll be here much longer than necessary," he whispered. He pushed her skirt upward, thankful for the heat that day where Laura had forgone pantyhose. He caressed the soft skin of her leg as he moved his hand higher toward his target. He stopped for only a moment when he made contact with the satin and lace material of the panties she was wearing.

He moved to his knees and tugged her panties off, her skirt pooled on the floor around her. Laura smiled and bit her lip when his fingers found her center already wet. She lifted her hips as he teased her entrance, slipping one finger then a second inside, stroking her slowly as he kissed her deeply. She gasped when his thumb brushed across her nub, jerking her hips reflexively. She wrapped her arms around his back, trying to pull him closer, her short nails digging in slightly as he stroked her again. "Rem, please," she begged. A smile slowly spread across his face as he watched her writhe below him.

"Begging already, Mrs. Steele?" he whispered, leaning forward to kiss the sensitive skin behind her ear. He withdrew his fingers and cupped her breast through the thin material of her shirt, gently pinched her taut nipple.

Laura took a breath, planted her foot on the floor, and flipped him onto his back and gathered up her skirt to straddle him. "Remember, Mr. Steele, where there's a will….," she whispered as she aligned her center with him.

He thrust upward into her hot depths as he finished her thought, "There's a way, Mrs. Steele." Laura gasped at the sudden fullness but immediately took control. She gripped his hips with her knees and leaned forward, kissing him. She rolled her hips, finding her rhythm quickly. Remington watched as her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing became shallow as she rode her way toward her peak. He tried not to thrust upward, to let her find her path, but when her movements became erratic, he put his hands on her waist and whispered, "Don't fight it, Laura, just let it happen."

Laura tried to maintain control, but the closer she came to her peak, the harder it was becoming. She felt Remington thrust gently, helping her reestablish her rhythm, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She leaned forward, her chin dropped, eyes closed as she rode him for a minute longer, every nerve ending in her body exploding at once. She fell forward onto his chest as her heart pounded, and she panted to catch her breath. Remington stilled himself, his heart pounding as his own body begged for release.

Without separating their bodies, he rolled Laura onto her back and began pumping his hips, slowly building again. Laura clung to him, her short nails digging into his back as he pumped faster. The louder she cried, the quicker he thrust until she gripped him tightly once again, dragging him over the edge of bliss with her. He flooded her core with several more strokes before stilling completely.

"Well, well, Mr. Steele, I think you found your way," Laura panted as she played with the damp hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Laura, that was-" he started to say but stopped when he heard a voice calling from over the fence, "Miss Holt?" "Laura, I think we best move quickly, or else we may be found in a rather compromising position by your neighbor," he stated as he pushed back and began righting his clothing. Laura scrambled to find her panties, quickly slipping them on when she saw the top of someone's head on the other side of the fence moving toward the street.

Laura looked at Remington's disheveled appearance and stated, "Can you move any faster?"

Remington rolled his eyes as he tried to button his shirt and tuck it in. He ran his hands through his hair and attempted to smooth his wrinkled pants as Laura smoothed his shirt. Finally, they both looked up to see a gentleman picking his way across the foundation toward them.

"Mr. Johnson! How are you?" Laura plastered a smile on her face as the man walked closer. She realized it had stopped raining seconds before he reached them.

"Miss Holt! I thought I recognized your car. It's been, what, almost two years now since the accident," Mr. Johnson exclaimed.

"Yes, about that, and it's Mrs. Steele now. Mr. Johnson, this is my husband, Remington Steele," Laura gestured toward Remington, who offered his hand.

"Mr. Steele, you're that detective, aren't you?" Mr. Johnson asked as he pumped his hand up and down several times.

Remington gently pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pants inconspicuously as he replied, "Yes, Laura and I have been working together for a few years now."

"I thought you looked familiar. I've seen your picture in the newspaper from time to time. Listen, did you two hear any yelling out here a few minutes ago?" Mr. JJohnson looked at Laura pointedly then at Remington.

Remington tried hard not to smile, knowing exactly what he had heard. He glanced at Laura, her face red from embarrassment as he stated, "Laura saw a spider… in the shed…" Thankful he could think fast on his feet, Laura added, "A big… huge… spide…." Remington giggled as he said, "Hairy legs and all. Well, Laura just couldn't help herself… she started yelling…" "I just started yelling, I couldn't help it," Laura added as she elbowed him in the ribs.

Mr. Johnson pressed his lips together and nodded as he said, "Yeah, figured it was something like that."

"Something like that, most definitely," Remington stated. He put his arm around Mr. Johnson's shoulder and led the man toward the street. "Laura and I will be rebuilding here shortly. It will be nice to have some real neighbors, you know, someone that watches over things and the sort."

"Really? You're rebuilding? Have you talked to the other neighbors yet? They may not like the disruption. We're a quiet neighborhood, you know. Not much goes on around here," he stated matter-of-factly.

Remington looked over his shoulder at Laura then replied, "Well, we'll do our best to keep the disruption to a minimum, won't we, Mrs. Steele?"

"Of course, Mr. Steele, I'm sure you'll have it all under control," Laura deadpanned.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Catherine sends her best," Remington stated into the phone receiver at the hotel in London. "She's quite pleased with the renovations so far and has even begun looking into hiring staff for the foundation. As she and I were talking, a thought occurred to me. How do you feel about not only the foundation supporting the children but what if… what if we were to teach them something. Skills, a trade, something," Remington suggested.

Laura shifted against the pillows stacked behind her on the bed and sighed, "I suppose that might work but what kind of skills?"

Remington exhaled loudly, "I'm not really sure. Life skills I would say, maybe teach them how to cook or maybe something artistic. Some of those rooms could be used for art studios, perhaps. And that beautiful ballroom has plenty of space for something more constructive."

Laura stifled a yawn and agreed, "I'm sure you'll think of something. What did Daniel teach you?"

"Well, he taught me a little bit of everything, I suppose you could say. Art, history, cooking, how to care for myself, amongst other things," Remington rambled.

Laura yawned again, loudly this time as she replied, "All in good time, Rem. When you get back to Los Angeles, I'm sure you'll have some brilliant stroke of genius."

Remington smiled and checked his watch, "My goodness, Laura, you must be exhausted. I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to keep you on the phone this long, rambling about the endless meetings and such."

Laura shifted once more, blinked her eyes heavily, and admitted, "I am a little tired. What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"About that… I had to push my flight another day. Mr. Taylor has arranged a rather interesting auction this morning for some of the gems we found and he's insisting I be present," Remington informed her.

"Auction? I thought he said he could easily have them sold off?" Laura questioned, slightly annoyed.

Remington chewed on a toothpick for several seconds before he stated, "He said they're worth more than we expected so the auction it is. You get some sleep. I'll call you once everything is finished."

"All right, goodnight, Rem," Laura sighed sadly.

"Oh, Laura, one more thing," Remington added before he hung up the phone. "I love you."

Laura smiled sleepily and replied, "I love you, too. Stay out of trouble."

"I'm wounded!" he mocked before chuckling.

"Later," Laura stated with a laugh as she dropped the phone on the receiver. She groaned at the time which was just past one in the morning. Laura shimmied down, rearranged the pillows and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Five thousand miles away, Remington dropped the phone into the cradle and sighed. He scratched his head and stared out at the London street below where he caught sight of several boys darting in and out of the alley. "Soon. Soon you'll have a safe place to call home," he muttered to the small group. He swallowed back the remaining tea in the mug beside him before he stood and straightened his tie. He checked his pockets for his wallet, the hotel room key, and what little cash he had before he headed down to the street. To the right, he noticed a bakery. He slipped inside only to reappear on the street several minutes later carrying three bags filled with scones, bagels, and rolls. He strolled toward the alleyway where he immediately picked up on the leader of the small band of boys.

"Hey," he called over with a sharp nod of his head. The taller boy, wearing a tattered jacket despite the heat of the day just sneered at him. Remington leaned against the brick wall beside him and assured the lad, "I'm not going to hurt you. I have something for you. For all of you." He held out the bags, the aroma of the warm bakery items drifting toward them.

"We don't want any," the older boy called out before he turned his back to walk away.

A smaller boy, maybe eight or nine watched as the older boy sauntered away. He turned and looked at Remington, his big blue eyes filled with tears. He stared at the bags in Remington's hands, swallowed hard and whispered, "What do you need from me?"

Remington slowly dropped to one knee and reached out to the boy, "Nothing. I just want you to take these, share them with your friends. Do you think you can do that?"

The boy raised his chin to look up at him, confused. "Yes?" he answered tentatively.

Remington pushed the bags into the boy's dirty hands and asked, "What's your name?"

"Joe," the boy whispered softly. "Joseph Huxley."

"Well, Joseph Huxley, what is a lad like yourself doing on the streets of London?" Remington asked with a chuckle.

Before Joseph could answer, he was startled when the bags were snatched from his hands and a gruff voice commanded, "Don't answer him, Joe. Don't ever answer!" Beside them stood the older boy, his lips curled into a sneer.

Remington held his hands up and shook his head, "I wasn't going to hurt him… or any of you. I was just trying to help." He stood slowly and as he reached his full height he looked down on the older boy and added, "I've been in your shoes before. I know what it's like stealing to survive, hoping beyond hope you get a quid just to find a warm place for a kip so you don't have to sleep in a doorway." As the older boy processed what he said, Remington reached into his pocket and pulled out the small stack of bills. He pressed the cash into Joe's hands and stated, "Get a hot meal, find a place for a hot bath and a place sleep tonight." The older boy attempted to reach out and take the money from Joe but Remington's quick reflexes stopped him. "Joe, it's up to you to decide who you take with you. Don't let someone like him control you," Remington instructed the younger boy. "Now go."

Joe looked up into Remington's blue eyes, currently narrowed in the direction of the older boy. Without a word, he took off running along the sidewalk until he disappeared down another alley. Remington slowly released the struggling teen, smoothed the boy's tattered jacket, and asked, "I wasn't lying when I said I've been you. Angry, forgotten. There is still hope, so don't lose that fire that burns deep inside. The fire that wants to break free from this life you're living right now."

"What do you know?" the boy sneered. He sized up Remington's expensive suit, freshly cut hair, and clean-shaven face.

Remington took a step back and pulled a toothpick from his jacket pocket which he immediately placed between his teeth. His mannerism immediately changed as he slipped easily into his Johnny Todd persona. He stepped closer to the boy and in one swift move, pinned him against the brick wall of the alley.

"Listen up and listen good. I spent the better part of my life trying to forget the days you're living now. I was a lad, not much older than that boy there," he paused long enough to point in the direction Joseph ran. "I didn't know how I was going to survive each day and yet, each night I fought to live. So don't tell me what I know and don't know. I know you. I've been you. And I know right now, the smell from those rolls is making your mouth water to the point your stomach hurts just thinking about it. I know you would kill that young boy for the quid I just handed him. And I know, that when I walk away, you're going to run and hide because you're too scared to admit you need help."

"I'm not gonna…" the boy stuttered. His eyes grew large as Remington got close to his face, rolled the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, and whispered, "You're scared." A solitary tear trickled from the corner of the boy's eye as he blinked rapidly. Remington stepped back, wiped the tear away, and patted the boy on the arm before he removed the toothpick and said, "Help is coming. I promise you that. Not as soon as I would like, but it's coming." He stepped back again, creating more distance between himself and the boy. "Now, I'm going to walk away. Take those rolls, share them with the other boys. I'll be back again tomorrow before I head across the pond. I'm going to help… help you all if I can."

The boy sniffed a few times, ran the back of his hand across his nose, and asked, "Why? Why would you want to help us? No one wants to help us."

Remington removed the toothpick and glanced up and down the sidewalk before he regained eye contact. "Because you deserve better," was his answer just before he turned and crossed the street, leaving the boy alone at the end of the alley, still holding the bags of warm rolls.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Laura arrived at the office bright and early despite her late-night phone call. She smiled at Mildred, sitting at her desk, going over the morning mail. "Good Morning, Mildred! Just think, Bernice will be here in just two more weeks and you will be in your own office," Laura reminded her with a smile.

"I know, I'm bordering between excited and scared," Mildred admitted with a tentative smile.

"Scared? The great Mildred Krebs, Queen of the Dragon Ladies, scared?" Laura teased.

Mildred blushed, dropped the letter opener she was holding, and said, "Just a little bit. But don't tell the boss. I don't want him to think I'm not ready for the promotion."

"I think you're forgetting again, Mildred. I am the boss," Laura laughed. "But in any event, Mr. Steele is in full agreement. You're completely ready for this and we have full faith you're going to become more invaluable than you are now," Laura assured her.

"Well, since you put it that way," Mildred smiled. She glanced down at the small stack of phone messages. "Mr. Clark called and asked if you made any progress yet."

Laura sat on the edge of Mildred's desk and took the pink slip of paper from her. "Well, with Mr. Steele traveling to London, he and I haven't had time to investigate. But now that you bring it up, I don't see the harm in taking a look before he gets back."

"Mrs. Steele!" Mildred gasped. "You shouldn't go alone to a place like that! That's too dangerous!"

Laura laughed loudly and asked, "Well, do you want to come with me? Help keep me safe?"

Mildred shook her head, "No way. I'm not heading into those wet, smelly tunnels and neither should you… not alone anyway."

"Mildred, Mildred, Mildred," Laura sang. "I used to play in those tunnels as a kid. They are no more dangerous than the local playground. Mr. Steele and I have been in many places much worse, I can assure you!"

"I still don't like it. And I'm pretty sure Mr. Steele wouldn't like it either," Mildred declared.

Laura chuckled, stood up, and stated, "Well, he's not here so he has no say in the matter. I'm going to head back home to get changed unless there are any appointments I need to be aware of." She raised an eyebrow at Mildred and waited.

"No, not until later today. And it's only another skip trace so I can handle that if you don't make it back in time," Mildred admitted.

"Well good, I'll see you a little later then. Oh, and if Mr. Steele calls, just tell him I stepped out for a few minutes and I will call him when I return," Laura turned and headed to the door.

Mildred pointed a pencil in Laura's direction and commanded, "Now wait one minute! You mean you want me to lie to him?"

Laura turned, smiled a dimpled smile, and lifted her hands. "No, not lie to him. I only meant to imply that there's no need for him to be worried while he's in London for no reason. And you and I both know he will worry, don't we?"

Mildred sighed, "Okay, fine. I may not like it, but you're right, we don't need the boss to be worried. After all, you said it wasn't dangerous so I'll take your word on that."

Laura laughed softly once more before she pushed the door open and stated, "I'll see you this afternoon. And remember, mum's the word." She allowed the door to swing closed before she disappeared down the hall to the bank of elevators. Mildred caught one last glimpse of her as the elevator doors closed.

An hour later, Laura found herself staring at the mysterious, painted bullseye to the left of the tunnel entrance. "Well, it's a start," she muttered to herself. She flipped on the flashlight and peered into the long, dark space. She focused the narrow beam of light on the ground as she stepped inside. The floor was covered in a thin layer of dark mud and sticks, washed in from the heavy rains the previous week. She carefully leaped over one larger bundle of debris and continued deeper into the darkened shaft. She stopped at the first junction and inspected one dark hall then the other. With a shrug of her shoulders, she sighed. "Which way?" she asked aloud.

Laura trained the flashlight on the walls and slowly rotated the light until she spotted what appeared to be a red circle outlined with white. "Well, well, well. I guess this might lead the way," she stated to the rats currently running along the edge of the tunnel with a chorus of squeaks and chirps. "Don't worry, I'll watch your back," she teased to creatures scurrying about. She carefully followed the tunnel to another junction, only this time, she had three options to choose from. Again, Laura swept the light until she spotted another red dot near a bend in the tunnel to her right. She picked her way around a trash covered shopping cart, partially submerged in the murky water.

As Laura got deeper into the tunnels, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of decay from the organic materials around her. She continued to scan the walls for any other painted symbols or clues. She reached the end of the tunnel only to find most of the wall covered in graffiti surrounding a large metal grate. Laura groaned, brushed her hair off her face and looked around once more. In the uppermost corner of the graffiti, she could barely make out the red and white curve of a circle. With a smile, Laura moved closer to the grate. She tried pulling on the heavy metal covering to no avail. She shined the flashlight into the next tunnel and could clearly make out another red and white circle at the far end.

Laura looked around for something she could wedge the grate open with but was unable to locate anything she could use as a lever. She turned around and began heading back to the area she spotted the shopping cart. As she neared the cart, she was completely focused on her objective when a voice called out to her, "Need something?"

Laura jumped and immediately grabbed the collar of her shirt in surprise, "No… No, I was just looking for something." She looked around until she spotted the source of the voice. An older, disheveled gentleman approached her slowly, carefully avoiding the large timbers of wood, partially blocking the tunnel on his side. Laura backed up, all the while keeping her eye on the man.

"I could help you. I know these tunnels like the back of my hand," the man announced. He held up his dirty hand and twisted it around for added effect.

"No, it's okay. I… I used to play in these tunnels when I was a kid… I was just looking for… for… an old book I left behind. A journal," Laura stuttered as she continued to back up.

"Nothing like that here now. Floods washed a lot of stuff down and away," the man explained. "Got pretty deep. I was up to here in water." The man held his hand to mid-thigh, indicating the approximate depth. He continued to inch his way closer to Laura as he spoke.

As the man got closer, his odor began to permeate Laura's sinuses. She gagged unexpectedly. Covering her mouth, she politely stated, "I must be going."

"You don't need to leave. I don't get many visitors down here," the man explained.

Laura shook her head, "Sorry, I have an appointment I must get to. You know how that can be. I don't want to be late." Laura took two steps away from the man but before she could turn away, he roughly grabbed her arm.

"You won't be late. I'll make sure of it," the pungent-smelling man sneered with a rotted tooth grin.

Laura's eyes grew large in panic but without a second thought, she stomped on his foot. The man yelped in pain as she turned and ran toward the brightly lit opening.

"Come back any time!" the man shouted after her retreating form. Laura broke into the open air of the flood basin, gasping for fresh air. She took one last glance behind her and she could hear the man laughing loudly, his gravelly voice echoing through the tunnel.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The next afternoon, Laura sat on the couch in Remington's office, leaning on her elbows, holding her head in her hands as he angrily blasted her. "I can't believe you went there alone!" he repeated. "We've had this discussion multiple times, Mrs. Steele, and you've managed to drill that thought into my head. However, you have failed to take your own advice. What's good for the goose isn't good for the gander, eh? Is that it?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal," she moaned again.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal, you say?" Remington continued his angry tirade. "What if you got hurt? What if you tripped and fell and couldn't get out of the tunnels? Who would come to your rescue? Mildred? Not me, because I was five thousand miles away in London!"

"I don't need to be rescued!" Laura snapped back, her own ire finally taking over.

Remington stared at her, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth together. "One of these days, Laura… one of these days you will, but you're so… so… so…." he trailed off in frustration, trying to find the right word to describe her.

"Stubborn? Yes, I know. That's how I got to where I am today," Laura informed him as she folded her arms across her chest, defiantly.

Remington mimicked her action and sat against the edge of his desk, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "Laura, I'm simply saying you should have waited."

"Well, I didn't, and I can take care of myself," she snapped again.

"Fine," Remington lifted his chin.

"Fine," Laura replied. She stared at him, her dark brown eyes intensely watching as he stared back at her. Neither one of them moved for over a minute until finally, Laura tossed her hands in the air and conceded. "All right, fine. I should have waited. I admit it. BUT, I did find a few more of those markers, so finding the rest should be a piece of cake. She stood up and crossed the office to lean against the desk beside him. She tipped her head to lean against his stiff shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Remington relaxed a bit after her apology, although he was still angry she had ventured to the tunnels alone. He dropped his arm around her and pulled her against his side. "I just don't want to see anything happen to you, Laura," he admitted. He sighed softly while they sat, side by side. After several minutes, he broke the silence. "Well, Mrs. Steele, do you have anything in mind for dinner this evening?" Remington asked Laura as she sat on the edge of his desk.

Laura thought for a moment before she replied, "How about Mexican? I think I'm in the mood for something a little spicy tonight."

"A little spicy, eh?" Remington repeated with a twitch of his eyebrows. "How about we skip dinner, and I can show you something else a little-" he began teasing but was cut off by the buzzing of the intercom. He leaned back across the desk, pressed the button, and said, "Perfect timing as always, Mildred."

"I'm sorry, Boss, did I interrupt anything?" Mildred asked sheepishly.

Laura shot Remington a look and replied, "No, Mildred, we were just discussing dinner options for this evening."

"Oh, there's a new little burger joint down on Sunset you should try. The fries are to die for," Mildred stated, each word drawn out.

"Ehem, Mildred, did you really buzz to find out what we were having for dinner tonight, or was there some other reason?" Remington asked, slightly annoyed.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, Chief. Mrs. Steele, your mother is holding on line one," Mildred informed them.

Laura jumped off the edge of the desk and said, "My mother? Are you sure?"

Mildred laughed, "I'm pretty sure I know what your mother sounds like on the phone by now, Honey. Besides, she's the only one I know that asks me if I've watered the plants in the lobby because they were dry the last time she was here."

"Okay, okay, Mildred, I'll take it in here," Laura rolled her eyes. She heard the click of Mildred transferring the call and said, "Hello, Mother."

"Laura? Laura, what took you so long?" Abigail demanded.

Laura rolled her eyes again and pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Sorry, Abigail, I will admit, it was my fault. I got Mildred talking about what Laura and I should pick up for dinner tonight," Remington interjected.

"Oh, Remington. It's not a problem. I just figured Laura was ignoring the fact I was on the phone," Abigail stated.

"I wasn't ignoring you, Mother," Laura stated. "Now, is there a reason you called or was it just to-"

"I've made a decision, Laura. I'm moving to California," Abigail cut her off.

Laura's mouth dropped open, and she was speechless. "And why the sudden change? You hate California," she stated finally.

"I hated California because there were too many memories I wished to avoid, but I came to a realization in Ireland after your wedding," Abigail announced.

Remington unbuttoned his top button and asked, "And what realization is that, Abigail?"

Laura was massaging her forehead with her fingers, afraid of what Abigail might say. "I learned I am missing too much of my daughters' lives and their families while I live here in Connecticut, alone. There is no one here for me. I mean, I have my friends and my bridge club, but I'm missing my children and my grandchildren," Abigail stated, her voice becoming softer and softer.

"Really, Mother?" Laura asked, surprised.

"You know I left California because… well, I left because I felt there was nothing there for me once you were off on your own, and Frances had Donald. I thought I would be better off without anything to remind me of him. And, to some degree, I still feel that way. After all, it's been over fourteen years without a word, a letter, nothing. But when we were all together, I felt… whole… for the first time in a long time. Being with you and Frances and watching the children made me see there is more to my life than bridge and Connecticut," Abigail rambled uncharacteristically.

Remington smiled at Laura, "Why, Abigail, I think it is a splendid idea that you're moving back to Los Angeles to be with Laura and Frances. Have you thought about where you might want to live?"

"No, Remington, not just yet. I thought… maybe you and Laura could help me find a place. A nice place. Safe, close to everything," Abigail admitted.

Remington smiled wider as an idea crept into his mind. "Tell you what, Abigail. I may know just the place." Laura instinctively raised an eyebrow in his direction as he continued, "Let me have a discussion with Laura, and we will call you soon with some details."

"I don't want to put you out on my account," Abigail stuttered.

"No, it'll be no trouble at all. You let us take care of everything," Remington insisted with a toothy grin.

Laura eyed him as she added, "Yes, Mother, let us take care of it, and we'll call you back. Bye now." Before Abigail could reply, Laura disconnected the call and narrowed her focus on Remington. "All right, what gives? What do you have up your sleeves now?" she questioned.

Remington smiled back at her and raised his hands, "Nothing, nothing at all, Laura. I was merely thinking of how much your mother liked the apartment, and then I thought maybe it would be wise to see if she'd like to move in there after we've moved into the new house, that's all. Nothing more than a thought for the future."

Laura folded her arms and thought about his idea. "Well, I suppose that might work. We wouldn't have to put it on the market after all, and my mother would be close by," she admitted. She lifted one hand, shook her head, and added, "What am I saying? I'm willingly advocating for my mother… my MOTHER… to live close by."

Remington slung his arm around her and slid her closer to him, "But just think, Laura. She and Frances can spend quality time together while you and I work diligently, side by side, every day, saving the world from -"

"I get your point," Laura cut him off. She sighed heavily, then stated, "Fine. I guess it won't be so bad if Mother moves back to California."

"See, that's the spirit!" Remington teased.

Laura pushed away from the desk, turned to face him, and said, "But… the first time she butts into our lives without asking… I'm holding you responsible."

"Me? Why me?" Remington asked, aghast.

Laura gave him a crooked, dimpled grin as she stated, "Because you are her favorite person. And I'm pretty confident you are the reason she's moving here in the first place, despite what she claims." Remington's jaw dropped open slightly before she added, "And it's your idea for her to live at the Rossmore."

Remington slipped two fingers into the belt at Laura's waist and pulled her close. "Well, I guess we'd better take advantage of all the time we have left there, then, shouldn't we," he stated with a playful bounce of his eyebrows.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The next morning, Laura paid a visit to Frances as Remington headed to the office alone. "Hey, Boss. Where's the missus this morning? You two didn't get into another fight, did you?" Mildred questioned.

Remington smiled and shook his head, "No, nothing like that. She just went to give Frances the good news about Abigail moving back to California, that's all."

Mildred relaxed slightly as she said, "You know, Chief, ever since you and Mrs. Steele have gotten married, everything seems to be settling into place. Even Frances has been less of a nutcase since we got back. It's like… the world has finally balanced, right before our very eyes."

Remington laughed loudly as he warned her, "Don't say that too loud, Mildred. I've been waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop since we've returned, and to be honest, I'd rather not jinx things." He lifted the envelopes sitting on the edge of the desk and perused the mail before he asked, "Any appointments on our agenda this morning?"

"Nope, but we did get a strange call a few minutes ago asking if you were in," Mildred stated.

"Just asking if we were in?" Remington questioned.

"Not we, just you," Mildred corrected him. She pointed at him with one finger, narrowed her eyes, and asked, "You're not up to anything shady again, are you, Boss?"

"Mildred," Remington cried, holding his hand on his chest. "I'm wounded to think you would believe I would be up to something… shady."

Mildred leaned on her forearms and shook her head, "I don't know. It just felt… shady."

"Well, don't you worry, Mildred. I have no idea who that caller was, nor am I up to anything at this moment," Remington assured her. "Now, if anyone happens to need me, I'll be in my office with the morning paper."

Several hours later, Laura could hear Remington talking with someone as she entered her office. Dropping her purse on her desk, she opened the door separating the two offices and said with a smile, "Good Afternoon, Mr. Steele." He was leaning on his desk, speaking to a man who's back was turned to her.

"Ah, Laura, so nice of you to join us. I'd like to introduce you to Mark Alverson," Remington introduced the man before him.

As the man turned toward Laura, her face went ashen as she said coldly, "What is he doing here, Mr. Steele?"

"Well, he's a potential cli-" Remington began, but Laura cut him off.

"No! He's NOT!" she seethed between clenched teeth. "I can't believe you would show up now. Get him out of here." Without further explanation, she turned and walked quickly back into her office, slamming the door.

Mark looked at Remington and said, "I think this was a bad idea. I honestly thought she… you both…. would understand."

"No, no, no, Mr. Alverson, I don't know what's gotten into my wife, however, I'll be sure to get to the bottom of that. Now, about your problem…. You were saying," Remington asked.

"Your … your… wife?" Mark stammered out. "I didn't know… maybe this isn't such a good idea...I'll…. I'll be in touch." Mark quickly left the office, leaving Remington thoroughly confused. He looked from the open doorway to the closed one several times.

Finally, he moved toward Laura's office door as he exclaimed loudly, "Would someone like to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" Opening the door, he began, "Laura? What the hell was…" he stopped when he found Laura staring out the window, her shoulders heaving as she fought to catch her breath. Crossing the room, he put his hand on her shoulder, "Laura?"

Without a word, she spun into his arms, tears streaming down her face. He simply held her, caressing her hair, her shoulders, and her back as she cried. He felt utterly helpless, not knowing the real source of her sorrow but sensing it had to do with the man that just left his office.

After a long minute, Laura inhaled a stuttered breath as she stepped back and wiped her face with her hands. Remington handed her his pocket square as he joked, "You might need this, love."

Laura snorted lightly as she replied, "Thanks." Taking another deep breath, she said, "I'm sure you're wondering what that was all about."

Remington pursed his lips together before replying, "Well, the thought did cross my mind a time or two." Looking down at Laura, he could see a hint of a smile on the curve of her mouth, so he continued, "It isn't every day a new potential client leaves my beautiful wife speechless, fleeing my office for her own where I find her a blubbering pile of tears."

"I'm not…" Laura countered.

"Beautiful? The loveliest of lovely," Remington smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. He reached up and brushed a small lock of hair off her cheek.

"I was going to say a blubbering pile of tears, but thank you," Laura replied.

Wiping another tear off her cheek, Remington said, "I beg to differ at the moment, Mrs. Steele. Now, would you care to explain who that man was?"

Laura looked toward the door, and without making eye contact, she replied, "That man…. Is my father, John Edward Holt."

Without waiting for any other explanation, Remington scrambled to the door and jerked it open. "Mildred, Mr. Alverson… which elevator did he take?" he gasped at the confused woman.

Mildred shook her head, "He didn't take an elevator, Boss. He opened the door to the stairs."

"The stairs?" he questioned before he took off running into the hall. From behind him, he could hear Laura calling after him, but he ignored it and continued to run. He pulled the door open, and from below, he could hear the echo of footsteps. "Mr. Alverson?" he called out as he took the steps as quickly as he dared, descending toward the sound below. The footsteps quickened the closer he got, so he called out again, "John Holt!" He continued to jog down, the noise stopped. Remington found him leaning against the concrete wall two flights down. Panting, Remington stopped and leaned his arm on the wall to steady himself.

"She told you," John stated softly.

"Yes… and no. You've left my wife in quite the emotional state, and I get the feeling this isn't the first time," Remington informed him.

John shook his head, "I knew I shouldn't have come, but I need to explain. She deserves the truth I was never able to give her before-" He stopped abruptly and slapped his hand on the wall behind him. "I never wanted to hurt them… any of them. I didn't have a choice."

Remington scratched the back of his neck, confused. "Maybe we could go back upstairs and talk-" he began, but John cut him off.

"No. I have to go before they come looking for me," he stated.

"Before who comes looking for you? Are you in some kind of danger? We can help you," Remington tried.

John pushed off the wall, "I am, but the FBI agents assigned to me are supposed to help. I just… I just need Laura to back off. She can't find the key… Russell has to do it. I can't risk Laura getting hurt because of what I found out years ago."

"Dammit, that's not good enough! You said she deserves answers and answers she is going to get!" Remington snapped angrily.

John started to descend to the next floor when he stopped and climbed back up to the landing Remington was standing on. "You're right, she does. Ok, IF she can find the key, she needs to bring the box directly to me, no one else, no matter what Russell has told you."

"Where can she find you?" Remington demanded.

"That's where things get a little tricky. I'm hidden away on Almas Perdidas Isle, just off the coast. I'm living in the old lighthouse with a team of FBI agents along with a watchdog. The only way to get to the island is by boat," he explained quickly. He glanced down at his watch then added, "If she finds the box, put a message in the paper. Makes sure it states 'Wanted: A circus poster', nothing more. Two days after that, go to Imperial Beach and find the docks painted red. That'll be the only boat to bring you to the island. I'll inform them why you're coming, but not before I know you have the box."

From above, Remington heard the sound of a door opening, and Laura's voice drifted down, "Mr. Steele? Are you in here?"

He looked over at John Holt; his face was now white with fear. "You go, Mate. I'll explain it to her."

"Keep her safe for me, please," John begged before he started down the steps once again.

"With my life, sir," Remington informed him before he turned and headed up the stairs in Laura's direction. "Laura? What on Earth are you yelling about?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Let me get this straight, Laura. Your father simply disappeared without any form of contact," Remington confirmed as they drove toward the 6th Street bridge.

"Yes… and no. It's complicated, I guess," Laura groaned. "He and Mother were fighting off and on for the better part of a month when all of a sudden, he just left. Packed a bag when we were out one day, and that was it."

Remington pressed his lips together tightly and nodded slowly. "And he never made contact after that?" he questioned.

"I don't think so. Mother never mentioned it. She just shut down and I… well, I was devastated. I was so lost in my own grief that I guess I didn't pay as much attention to things as I should have," Laura admitted while she picked at an imaginary piece of lint on her pant leg.

"So, he could have contacted Abigail, but you have no knowledge of it," Remington suggested.

Laura shrugged her shoulders, "I think she would have said something if he had."

Remington sighed loudly before he continued, "And now, out of the blue, he's come to first warn you off finding this key, but then insisting that if you do, you have to bring him the contents in person on an island off the coast. Not to mention, the only way to get there is by a boat, and that boat is run by the FBI. Don't you find that a bit odd?"

Laura rubbed her forehead with two fingers as she contemplated his explanation. "What if… what if he was in trouble? And what if the only way to keep us safe was to leave," she suggested.

Remington nodded, "I might buy that, if, and only if there is something of value in that safe deposit box."

"Well, Mr. Steele," Laura gave Remington a weak smile, "the only way to find out is to find that key." She looked out the window and mentally analyzed all the pros and cons of their situation.

"Laura, I've said it before… if this is too difficult, then we don't have to do this. We can simply do as we originally planned… find the key, give it to Mr. Clark and be on our merry little way," Remington insisted.

Laura snapped her head to the side to look at him, "No. I need answers. I've waited for fourteen years for answers, and if the only way to get them is to find that key and bring that box to him, then dammit, I'm going to get those answers!"

Remington lifted one hand off the wheel and gestured, "All right, just calm down. There's no need to get all worked up now. Look, see? We're here. So, let's take all that… that energy you have and focus it on the case."

Laura exhaled loudly and agreed, "Fine. Focus on the case." She climbed out of the car before she reached into the backseat to get the large crowbar she had placed there earlier. "We don't want to forget this."

"And if we don't need it to pry that grate you described open, we can still use it to fend off any unsavory types, eh?" Remington teased with a lopsided grin.

Laura rolled her eyes, tossed the crowbar at him and stated, "Very funny, Mr. Steele." Remington chuckled as he caught the heavy tool. Together, they jogged across the now dry flat ground of the basin to the opening of the marked tunnel. Laura pulled out a flashlight, flicked it on, and said, "Would you like to go first?"

"Not at all, Laura. You just be sure to shine that light as we go," he instructed. She started into the tunnel, Remington close behind. Together they made their way to the grate Laura had found on her previous visit. Laura searched for any sign of her pungent friend but was unable to locate him. "Coast clear?" he teased.

Laura ignored his comment and pointed at the heavy grate, "So, this is what I was talking about. I'm not sure how to get this open so we can get to the other side."

Remington studied the grate and suggested, "Let's go back and get that cart. Once we get it open, we can wedge the cart in to hold it, just in case we need this crowbar for something else."

Laura nodded, "Excellent suggestion, Mr. Steele. I'll stay here and hold it while you go get that cart."

Remington scowled at her, glanced down the tunnel then back at Laura again. "Fine, fine," he muttered as he handed her the heavy tool before he shuffled through the ankle-deep water back to the spot where the cart rested. He struggled to shake the cart free of debris before he finally lifted the end out of the water.

"Need some help?" a gravelly voice echoed in the semi-darkness. Remington could smell the man as he neared. "I can help you," the man repeated.

Remington looked down at the cart, still stuck in debris, and stated, "You sure, Mate? I don't want to take you away from anything."

"I got nothing but time. Not too many visitors down here… except for a pretty lady a day or two ago," the man informed him as he pulled some of the branches loose.

"Oh?" Remington replied with a twist of his mouth. He bit his lip as he and the man worked together until they successfully untangled the remaining refuse from the lower part of the cart.

"You trying to get that old grate open, too?" the man asked. He began following Remington as he slowly pushed the metal cart through the tunnel.

"Mr. Steele?" Laura's voice echoed off the concrete walls.

Remington glanced over that the man in the dim light and called back, "On my way… with company." He continued to maneuver the cart until he could see the walls illuminated brighter by Laura's flashlight.

"Oh, no," Laura groaned as the man's odor reached her sinuses once more. Remington and the man approached with a scowl clearly evident on Remington's face. "Hello, dear," Laura stated with a saccharine smile.

"I… uh… I found the cart you mentioned, and this gentleman was kind enough to help me dislodge it," Remington stated. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he watched Laura's expression.

"It's you again!" the man exclaimed happily. "I see you brought help this time. And a tool. Tools are good. Very helpful."

"So, you two have met before?" Remington questioned as he stared at Laura.

Self-consciously, Laura fingered the hollow of her throat as she stuttered, "Not really, only briefly." She glanced over at the man and added, "It's nice to see you again."

Remington nodded, "Uh-huh. Well, I guess we are in your debt for helping us, Mate." He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills. "Maybe this will suffice." He handed the money to the foul-smelling man who promptly balled the cash into his grimy palm.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" the man exclaimed, his eyes lighting up quickly. "I'm going to head out now unless you folks need any more help?" he asked as he slowly pocketed the money.

"No, I think we have this, Mate. Go get yourself a hot meal," Remington smiled. The man nodded gleefully and scurried away into the darkness. Remington turned back to Laura and stated, "We can discuss your acquaintance with our friend later. Let's see what we can do about getting this grate open, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, he took the flat end of the crowbar and shimmied it into a small gap in the seal of the grate. He began pushing against the massive barrier in an effort to dislodge it from its resting place. "A little help, if you wouldn't mind," he snapped at Laura.

Laura moved to stand beside him, and together they pressed against the crowbar once more. "That's it… it's moving!" she declared as the rusty grate began to give way and lift slightly. Slowly, they managed to wriggle the crowbar further under the heavy metal until they had enough leverage to push the grate open wide enough to force the shopping cart underneath, wedging it open. "Well done, Mr. Steele," Laura applauded his efforts.

Remington pushed the sweat-dampened lock of hair off his face with one hand, leaving a dirt smear on his forehead. "Thank you, Mrs. Steele. Now, let's see if we can find this damn key. I'm not sure how long that cart is going to hold." He carefully guided Laura's head under the grate before he followed.

Together, they made their way to the other end of the tunnel, where Laura had spotted the red and white indicator on the left side of the tunnel. "I don't see anything here," he stated.

Laura swung the flashlight to face the left corridor and pointed, "There." Remington spotted another red and white circle. "I remember this section. My father brought me down here once or twice. He told me we would play hide and seek, only there weren't very many places to hide," Laura stated, a hint of sadness in her tone. She walked as fast as she dared, once again, the small bodies of rats scurrying between their feet. Once they reached the marker, Laura inspected the surrounding area. The end of the tunnel was blocked by bars, floor to ceiling, and nothing but darkness and the sound of rushing water.

She moved back to the spot Remington was still standing and shook her head. "Nothing more down there, so he must have hidden it somewhere around here, but where?"

Remington held his hand out for the flashlight, "May I?" Laura promptly handed it over. Remington slowly scanned the old stone and concrete wall until something caught his eye. He reached up and began picking at the loose mortar around one particular stone. "Find me a stick or something so I can get this out," he instructed.

Laura scanned the floor and quickly found what he was looking for. She handed him a thick sliver of wood, which he promptly used dig around the stone with more vigor. Slowly, he worked the stone free from its spot in the wall. Remington handed the stone and the sliver of wood to Laura and pushed up on his toes to get a glimpse inside the exposed hole. "Here. Lift me up, and I'll look," Laura suggested. Remington handed her back the flashlight without a word and hoisted her up. Laura focused the beam of light directly into the newly exposed hole. "I see something," she announced.

Laura reached into the hole and extracted a small, zippered, canvas bag with the faded words Crescent Bank on the side. Remington slowly lowered her to her feet and took the bag from her. He inspected the rusty zipper under the glow of the flashlight and shook his head. "Well, we're going to need some tools to get this open. Let's take it back to the office and give it a whirl," he declared.

"Good. The smell in this place is starting to get to me," Laura admitted as she wrinkled her nose.

Remington gave her a weak smile, swept his hand to the side in a grand gesture, and said, "After you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"You're late!" Remington heard Mildred snap as they stepped into the foyer of the office.

Remington scowled at Laura before stuttering his reply, "I'm sorry, Mildred. Laura and I ran into a little snag in the tunnels."

"You know, we never had this problem before. The last guy was always here at the same time every day, like clockwork. You? You show up when you feel like it," Mildred snapped again.

Confused, Remington frowned and stormed around the large plants in his way to the open door of Murphy's old office where he could see Mildred standing behind the desk and a man dressed in a mail carriers' uniform standing across from her. Mildred's arms were folded tightly across her chest as she glared at the mail carrier. "Mildred, what's going on?" Remington questioned with a twist of his mouth.

The mail carrier snapped his head in Remington's direction and demanded, "Do something about her!"

"I'm sorry, Mate, who are you?" Remington clipped back. He folded his arms in a similar stance as Mildred's, challenging the man.

Laura sidestepped Remington and lifted her arms. In a soft tone, she suggested, "It sounds like we might have a misunderstanding here. I'm sure you're still learning your route and the best path through the building…." She raised her eyebrows, searching for his name.

"Joe… My name's Joe. And yeah, I'm still learning the building. That doesn't give Miss Hotpants over here the right to yell at me because I wasn't here right at noon to get your mail," Joe the mailman pointed at Mildred.

"Joe," Laura gave him a forced smile, "I'm sure Ms. Krebs didn't mean anything by something she may have said. It's been a long week, and she's been working so hard getting this office organized. I'm sure, come Monday morning when you see each other again, she'll be in a much better mood, won't you, Mildred?" Laura gave Mildred a pointed look.

Mildred dropped her arms and sighed, "Maybe. But if this clown doesn't show up on time, I'll be calling your superior."

Joe looked at Mildred, then focused on Remington's scowling face before settling on Laura's forced smile. "You people must really be miserable in this office. I'll be back Monday." He stormed out and quickly disappeared into the elevator.

Mildred looked down at the desk and called after him, "You forgot the letter!" She shook her head as she mumbled, "Where do they find these people?"

Laura glanced at Remington, still holding his stance and said, "Mildred, it really has been a long week. Why don't you head home in a few minutes? This office is nearly cleared out, thanks to you. You've earned it."

Mildred slumped her shoulders, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Steele. It's frustrating, you know. You're expecting someone, and they don't show when they are supposed to and when that person does show up, hours later, they act like it's no big deal."

A grin crossed Laura's face as she glanced at Remington, "I'm very familiar with the feeling, Mildred."

Remington, suddenly catching the drift of the conversation, agreed, "Yes, Mildred, you should head home. After all, isn't tonight your bowling night? Any big tournaments coming up?"

Mildred toyed with the pens in the cup on the desk, "It is. And we do have a big one next week, so I should probably be practicing. You sure you two don't need me for the rest of the afternoon? What if a client comes in? You don't look like you're up for talking to clients dressed like that."

Remington and Laura looked down at their mud-splattered clothes. "No, I guess we're not. We'll just lock the doors. Problem solved," Remington suggested with a laugh.

Laura laughed along with him, "Actually, Mildred, we won't be here much longer ourselves. We're going to try to get this bag open and get to the bank if we can." Laura held up the canvas bag with the rusted zipper.

"That's going to be nearly impossible, Mrs. Steele," Mildred informed her with a shake of her head.

"What? Getting that bag open? I'm sure Mr. Steele has a few tricks up his sleeve to work this old zipper loose. And if none of those work, I'm sure we could cut the bag if we had to," Laura insisted.

Mildred continued to shake her head, "No, Crescent Bank was bought out a few years ago. Now, it's New Federal Bank."

Remington propped his chin into one hand as he thought, "That's right. And if memory serves me correctly, they close early on Fridays during the summer. Stupidest thing I've ever heard of for a bank."

"Yes, Boss, but they stay open late on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and they will give advances on paychecks if you have an account with them," Mildred explained.

Laura tipped her head to the side and asked, "How would you know so much about this particular bank's practices?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders and admitted, "Because I opened an account there just in case I needed an advance on my paycheck at any time."

Laura chuckled and nodded knowingly, "Uh-huh. Well, with the new raise you'll be getting, hopefully, you won't need advances anymore."

"Yeah, hopefully not," Mildred replied sheepishly. "You sure you don't mind if I head out?" she asked once more.

"Go, Mildred, before Laura finds some poor soul in the elevator that needs your specific services," Remington teased. Without another word, Mildred scrambled around the desk to the front desk and collected her purse.

"You kids have a nice weekend," she called out. Remington laughed as he watched her scurry into the hallway to catch the elevator doors before they closed.

Laura sauntered into the waiting area of the office toward Remington's door. "Coming, Mr. Steele?" she sang.

"On my way, Mrs. Steele," he hummed back teasingly. Once inside the office, he sat in one of the overstuffed chairs and examined the bag. "Laura, bring me the tool kit in the bottom drawer of my desk, would you, please?" Laura complied and handed him the small parcel. Inside, Remington found a pair of needle-nose pliers and a small tube of lubricant. "Maybe we can get that zipper loosened just enough that we can use the pliers to get a grip on it. Between the two of us, we might be able to force it open."

"Well, it's worth a try," Laura agreed. She watched as he applied the thin gel along the zipper seam before rubbing the bag between his hands.

After several minutes, he examined the zipper again and suggested, "Laura, you hold the pliers tightly, and I'll pull pack on the bag." Laura nodded, tightened her grip on the small zipper toggle with the pliers, and began to pull. "More," Remington instructed. Laura tugged harder, but after no success, she planted her foot on the chair beside his leg for leverage. She lifted her head, made eye contact, and nodded. Remington nodded back, and they both began a strange tug of war on the small canvas bag. After several minutes, the pliers lost its grip, sending Laura sprawling backward onto the couch. Remington puckered his lips as he tried to hide his amusement. "Really, Laura, if you had something else in mind, we could have gone home," he teased.

Laura rolled her eyes at him as she sat up. "Now is not the time for that, Mr. Steele," she chastised. She found her footing once more and, with a twinkle in her eye, commented, "If we can get this bag open, I may be amenable to celebrating at home later."

Remington straightened himself in the chair quickly and tossed the old canvas bag onto the table. He lifted the tool kit and searched inside for something else they could use to pry the zipper open. After several minutes, he discovered an X-acto knife kit. He held it up, and with a raise of his eyebrows, he silently suggested cutting the bag. Laura looked down at the bag on the table and sighed loudly before she nodded her approval.

Carefully, Remington removed the sharp knife from the kit and inserted the point into the canvas beside the rusted zipper. He slowly sawed his way along and cut a line a few inches long, just wide enough to see inside the bag and possibly extract anything inside. He returned the knife to the case and handed the bag to Laura, "Would you like the honors, Mrs. Steele?"

Laura eyed the bag and shook her head, "No, you do it."

Remington leaned forward, his elbows resting just above his knees, and folded his hands. He hung his head and thought for a moment. "Laura, are you having second thoughts about this? Because if you are, it's not too late to give this to Mr. Clark and be done with it. I'm sure your father will understand. After all, it's been-"

"Fourteen years, two months and seventeen days, but who's counting," Laura gave him a weak smile.

"Right, fourteen years, Laura. Fourteen years since you've had any contact with the man who destroyed your faith in what real relationships were. That's a long time for those feelings to be buried into your heart deeper than you ever thought possible," Remington reminded her.

Laura sighed, leaned forward, and grasped his hand in hers, "Yes, but you've taught me how to let that go and move on. And the only way for me to do that is to get answers from the source."

"Well, then, let's see what this bag holds, shall we?" Remington stated with a nod. He reached into the narrow opening and pulled out two keys on a small ring. He dropped the keys into her open palm and added, "There's something else." He tugged out a slip of paper, the edges slightly browned with age. "Crescent Bank, box 251," he read. Laura examined the keys and held up one of them with the numbers 251 stamped on it. "Store-a-lot Storage locker number six," he continued. Laura held up the second, unmarked key as he continued to read, "The storage unit is listed under the name James Bailey."

Laura gave him a smirk, a sharp shake of her head, and chuckled. Remington raised his eyebrow in response. "He knew. He knew I would be the one to find it. Even back then, he knew," she stated.

"How's that, Laura?" Remington remarked.

"Who else would know that his storage unit is under the name of a famous circus owner?" she replied with a wide smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Laura and Remington spent the weekend clearing the rest of the files out of Murphy's old office, as well as, a few boxes from Laura's office after discovering the bank wasn't going to be open again until Monday and the storage facility was closed for security maintenance for the weekend. Monday morning, they arrived at the storage facility just before it opened. They stood outside of the door until a young, long-haired man puttered past them. "Yeah, sorry I'm late. I slept in," he muttered as he shoved the key into the lock and pushed the door open. "You folks looking to rent a space?" he inquired as he brushed his stringy hair out of his eyes.

"No, actually, we're here to get some of the contents from one of the lockers. Number six," Laura informed him with a cheerful tone.

"Wow… so you're the mysterious Mr. Bailey," the young man stated with awe.

Laura tipped her head to the side slightly and asked, "You mean, you've never seen, Mr. Bailey?"

The unkept clerk shook his head, "Nah, none of us have. I've been working this joint for six years, and the closest I've ever come is seeing the money order that gets mailed in to pay for the unit. You are quite the celebrity here." He smiled at Remington before he added, "The other guys are never gonna believe me. Hey, do you think I can get a picture with you?"

"Well, I don't think-" Remington began, but Laura quickly cut him off, "Mr. Bailey is very, very busy today and we just need to get into that unit, so if you don't mind?"

The clerk gave her a broader smile, "That's all cool. I get it. The man of mystery needs to stay a mystery. Hey, just follow me!" He stepped around the counter and led them to a door down a short hallway. He punched in a four-digit code, then after the buzzer sounded, he pushed the door open. "Your stuff has been so secure, Mr. Bailey, don't you worry. This was money well spent. No one gets into this section of the place without one of us letting them in, and we personally escort everyone to their unit." He stopped at one unit, the metallic roll door firmly locked in place by a padlock.

Remington and Laura followed along, "Well, thank you, my good man. You've reassured me that my treasured possessions are safe within your walls. Now, if you will excuse my associate and I, we would like some privacy to inspect the items that have been so well protected." He emphasized his point by tapping the metallic door gently. A distinct thunder-sounding echo reverberated around the concrete hall.

"No sweat. If you need me, I'll be at the desk. Oh, and you don't need a code to get out. Just open the door and ignore the buzzing. I'll know it's you." He waved as he disappeared around the corner, and seconds later, Laura and Remington heard the distinct buzzing sound again.

"Well, Mrs. Steele, would you like to do the honors?" Remington asked as he held up the small padlock key. Laura took the key in a shaky hand and, after several attempts, managed to slip it into the key slot. She took a breath and twisted, the arm of the padlock releasing with ease. She looked at Remington and exhaled. "Really, Laura, this isn't a bomb we're disarming. It's just a simple lock," he teased. Laura gave him a weak smile before she shimmied the lock completely free. She just stared at the bottom edge of the door before Remington groaned, "For crying out loud." He reached down and, with a loud clatter, sent the door ratcheting upward.

"Thank you," Laura whispered. She stepped into the dark space and fumbled for the pull cord for the light. With a tug, the narrow storage unit was bathed in light. Surrounding them were several piles hidden by tarps covered in a thick layer of dust. "Where should we begin?" she groaned.

Remington reached down and pulled the edge of one tarp up, revealing a stack of boxes underneath. Laura mimicked his actions, revealing more boxes and a suitcase. Remington moved to a third pile, and as he exposed the trunk underneath, a cloud of dust quickly filled the small space. Laura covered her face and sneezed several times in succession before the dust settled around them. "God bless you," he stated and handed her his pocket square once again. "You know, these are becoming quite handy lately," he teased. Laura groaned and rolled her eyes. "Well, since we've managed to uncover this chest, would you like to start with this or move the other tarps?" Remington suggested.

"Let's move the rest first. If we're going to stir everything up, might as well do it all at once," Laura replied. She left the double meaning of her words hanging as she carefully tried to fold the dust-covered tarp over without creating another cloud. Remington followed her lead, and within minutes the contents of the unit were exposed more than before.

Laura sneezed several more times as she surveyed the boxes around them. Remington lifted a vinyl record out of one and commented, "UFO, interesting band." He thumbed through several more as he read out the titles, "The Yardbirds, Wishbone Ash, Uriah Heep. Your father seemed to be quite the Bristish music connoisseur."

Laura gave him a relaxed, dimpled smile. "He used to listen for hours, and sometimes, he would spin me around to the music. Even Mother and Frances would join in. That's probably one of the best family memories I have of all of us together," she admitted. "I was wondering what happened to all his records. I thought Mother had thrown them out."

Remington allowed the cardboard sleeves to fall back into the box. He peeked around in the box, silently noting it was filled with books and other odds and ends. Laura reached into another box and pulled out a photo album. She gasped as she turned the first few pages, "I thought these were gone forever."

Remington peered over her shoulder and grinned at a picture of Laura as a baby, laying naked on a blanket on what appeared to be the beach in the background. "And those cheeks still look just as nice," he teased.

Laura blushed and quickly closed the book. "I guess we can go through that again later," she stated. She moved to the trunk and fingered the catch. "I think we can assume there's nothing here to tell us why he left," she stated.

Remington pointed at the trunk, "Let's try that. After all, we seem to have good luck with trunks and family items."

"It's probably filled with clothes and other items he didn't need at the moment," she decided.

"But we'll never know if we don't open it, will we?" Remington goaded.

"Fine," Laura stated, "But you do it." She stepped away from the trunk to give him space.

Remington studied her face and detected faint lines of stress across her forehead and around her mouth as she fought to keep a slight smile. "No. This is your father, your life. You need to do this, Laura. You've come this far already, why stop now?" he gently suggested. Laura glanced over at the trunk and sighed. Sensing her hesitation, he pulled her against his side and dropped his chin on her head. "You can do this. I have faith in you, love."

"I know," Laura nodded. "Thanks." She knelt on the concrete floor, lifted the catch, and slowly pushed the lid upward. She couldn't hide the look of relief when she noticed the first object in the chest. She quickly scooped up a fluffy, white, handknit blanket and pressed it against her face. "It still smells like him. I never forgot that smell," she admitted. "This was the blanket my grandmother made for me. I thought I lost it moving into college." She peered into the chest and pulled out a round plaster dish complete with a small handprint depression. "I made this for him for Father's Day when I was in kindergarten," she explained. She carefully placed the delicate dish onto the floor and continued to rummage through things. "There's so much here… things from me, from Frances. And my parent's wedding album. I could have sworn my mother threw it away after he left, but I guess I know the truth. He took it all with him."

Remington knelt down beside her and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb as an unchecked tear slid down. "It looks to me like this was a man who truly loved his family but left to keep them safe, perhaps?" he suggested softly.

Laura rubbed the blanket in her lap unconsciously as she shook her head and admitted, "I don't know. I hope so. But we still have a lot to do before we get any answers, Mr. Steele."

"That we do, Mrs. Steele, so let's get this stuff covered up once again and head over to the bank. With any luck, we'll find some of the answers to your questions," Remington reminded her.

Laura gathered the blanket up and dropped it back into the chest but not before pressing it her face once more. She closed the chest and carefully tugged the tarp back over it. "Let's go to the bank!" she announced.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Remington tapped his fingers nervously on the edge of the desk of the bank manager as they waited for his return. "I knew this wasn't going to be easy," Laura groaned from the chair beside him.

"Settle down, Laura. He said he just needed to confirm the box was still intact. There's nothing to get nervous about," he tried to reassure her.

"Well, if there's nothing to be nervous about, why do you keep tapping your fingers?" she challenged.

Remington immediately stopped his fingers and watched as the bank manager approached them with a smile. "See look. He's smiling. I bet we'll be holding the contents of that box in no time," he tried to assure her.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. and Mrs. Steele," the bank manager stated politely. "It's not very often we get requests for the older boxes, so I needed to be sure we had the correct keys," he explained. He held up a long, thin key on a keyring. "I had to go find this."

Laura exhaled softly as she smiled, "I apologize if this is causing you any inconvenience. We promise we won't take up very much of your time."

"No, not a problem at all. And, surprisingly enough, it's been a quiet morning," the manager explained. "Now, if you'd like to follow me, I can bring you down to our vault." Laura stood, looking visibly relieved as Remington joined her, and together, they followed the manager down a flight of steps into the basement of the bank. They continued down a short hallway, their footsteps echoing against the concrete. "Here we are," he announced. He held the door open for them, and the trio stepped into a small anteroom. "Here, let me just unlock this gate," he stated, holding up a large keyring. He fumbled with it for a long minute before he announced, "Found it. I never seem to get the right one the first time." He pushed the gate inward and waited until Laura and Remington were inside the vault.

"Box two fifty-one, mate," Remington reminded the manager as he tugged on his ear, annoyed everything seemed to be taking much longer than necessary.

"Two fifty-one…. Two fifty-one… two fifty...one…" the manager chanted as he scrolled through the faded numbers on the boxes.

"This one! Right here," Laura pointed out with a forced smile. She, too, was becoming more and more anxious the longer the bank manager took.

The manager smiled at her, "Your eyes are better than mine!" She slipped the key into the slot to the right and turned it. The bank manager followed, and several seconds later, the outer lock was removed. "I'll leave you two alone now. If you need anything, just hit the buzzer and someone will come down and assist you." He disappeared into the hall, his footsteps quickly fading away.

Remington tugged the long, metal box from the slot in the wall and placed it onto the table. "Well, whatever's in there weighs enough," he commented.

Laura narrowed her eyes and asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's heavier than I expected it to be, that's all," Remington explained.

Laura lifted the lid and peered inside, "There are notebooks in here… ledgers of some sort." She pulled several out and placed them on the box. She lifted one in particular and flipped through a few pages. "Wait," she uttered as she scanned the pages. "I don't get it. J-Dip? J-Drag? A-Corn? Old Man? It doesn't make any sense." She ran her finger down one line of the ledger sheet and shook her head.

"Here, let me take a look," Remington held out his hand. Laura gave him the book she held and watched as skimmed the pages with a frown on his face. "Well, if I had to take a guess, your father was tracking some illegal business, but for who, I can't say. What… what did you say he did for work?"

Laura shrugged her shoulders, "As best as I can remember, he was an accountant for a winery and a few other businesses around the city. One was a laundromat, maybe… and some kind of import company. That's all, I think. I don't really know." Laura looked down at the stack of books in the drawer and admitted, "I didn't really pay much attention to what he did. I just know he always paid the bills on time and was always conscious of how we spent money. He's the reason I am the way I am. He was always making sure everything was in balance, not just in his checkbook but around our house, too."

Remington closed the book in his hands. He placed it onto the table beside the drawer and began flipping through the remaining books. "But he still managed to make sure you were happy," he declared. He touched his lips with his fingers before he added, "I may not know what it takes to be a good father, but from everything I've heard recently, he doesn't sound like he was all that bad."

Laura gave him a weak smile as she stated, "No, he wasn't bad at all. I mean, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have my love of the circus."

"Speaking of which, we should bundle all this up if we're going to make it to the newspaper in time to get that advertisement in today's print," Remington reminded her.

"Yeah, we should probably do that," Laura replied half-heartedly.

Remington studied her face for a moment before he reached out and assured her, "If you need another day, we can wait. He doesn't know we found this, so what are twenty-four more hours going to matter, eh?"

Laura covered his hand with her own as she shook her head, "No. I've waited long enough. But thank you. You seem to be taking this in stride much better than I am."

"Well, it wasn't all that long ago we were thrown into my family history full force. Now, I guess it's time for me to learn more about yours," he teased, drawing a laugh from Laura.

"Well, the more we are uncovering right now, I'm not even sure I know the truth about my own family history, so this will be new to both of us," Laura laughed lightly. Her mood seemed to shift ever so slightly but enough that Remington could feel her tension lift.

"All right then. Let's pack these up, bring everything back to the apartment for safe-keeping before we see what Mildred has been up to all morning. We can call over to the paper and if we can make today's copy, fine," Remington declared.

Laura lifted the stack of books inside the box, revealing a sealed envelope at the bottom. She raised an eyebrow as she read the neatly printed writing, "To my daughter, Laura."

"What's that there?" Remington asked.

"An envelope... addressed to me," she stated. She handed him the books and lifted the yellow paper envelope. She carefully tore at the seal on the back and pulled out a small, folded paper. "Laura, I don't know how to explain everything that is going on. It happened so quickly I didn't have time to tell you face to face, but I hope you will understand. Just remember, I love you, Loo-Loo. I always will. And someday, I hope I'll be able to explain why I'm not there for you. Love, Dad."

"Loo-Loo?" Remington teased with a crooked, toothy grin.

"Don't," Laura warned him as she tucked the letter back into the envelope.

Remington didn't relent, "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for that wonderful nickname your father gave you, now isn't there."

"Yes, and I'm not going to indulge your curiosity right now, either. Let's get out of here," Laura informed him quickly as she slid the now empty box into the drawer and closed it up tight.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Laura and Remington arrived at the office and once again they were accosted by the sound of Mildred speaking loudly once more, "It feels like things are never going to get done unless I do it myself. It's all about work, work, work."

Laura quickly rushed inside to see Bernice standing against the wall with a smile on her face as she replied, "Sounds like old times. I can't wait to get back."

Mildred was standing face to face with Joe, the mail carrier, once again. In one hand she was holding the letter he had left behind on Friday. "See this? This should have been taken to the post office when you were here, but no, you left it behind. What do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded.

Joe snatched the letter from her hand and announced, "You're one crazy lady." He placed her letter into his bag, as he stated, "See you tomorrow!" He turned and left the office, leaving Laura, Remington, Mildred, and an open-mouthed Bernice behind.

Laura laughed loudly before she put her arms around Bernice, "Welcome back! But I thought you weren't coming until next week?"

Bernice smiled at her old friend, "Small change of plans, so here I am. Now, what do I need to know? Things don't look like they've changed a whole lot around here." She glanced around the foyer at the same filing cabinets and the same desk she had left several years before. "Well, the computer is new," she declared. Remington stepped up behind Laura and whispered in her ear. Bernice didn't miss the sly grin that creased Laura's face or the color that crept into her cheeks. "And then there's that," Bernice teased. She tipped her head and asked, "What gives, Skeezix?"

Remington tugged on his ear and laughed, "Nothing, Ms. Wolfe. I was simply commenting it was nice to have you back."

"Uh-huh. Then why is Laura blushing like a school girl right now?" Bernice teased.

Laura's eyes widened as she fanned herself. "Mr. Steele was just reminding me we have work to do," Laura tried.

"Is that what you call it?" Bernice pushed. Laura rolled her eyes and stepped around her friend as she stated, "I'll call the paper, Mr. Steele. Maybe you can get Bernice settled, so she can really start working tomorrow."

"Of course, Laura. And Mildred can go back to whatever it was that she was working on," Remington suggested. He looked toward the older woman and raised an eyebrow.

Mildred held up a file folder she had been holding, "I was just bringing this into your office, Boss. It's a copy of the building permits Monroe dropped off. He seemed pretty excited to get started. What is this all about?"

Remington took the file from Mildred, and a toothy grin slowly brightened his face, "Well, Laura and I are building a home on the grounds of her old property."

"The blueprints! That's right!" Mildred exclaimed with a snap of her fingers. "With everything going on since we've been back, I forgot all about that. How does Mrs. Steele feel about it?"

Remington pursed his lips together as the memories of their time in the shed the previous week flooded his mind. With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, "Other than the pool, Mrs. Steele seemed very happy about the idea." He took several steps toward his office door and announced, "Mildred, I may need your services in a bit. Laura and I have uncovered a new development in Mr. Clarke's case."

"Oh, really?" Mildred's interest was completely piqued. She waited for him to explain more details only he simply turned and headed into his office.

He stopped at the door and stated, "Ms. Wolfe, maybe you can start by getting me some coffee?"

Bernice shook her head, "You know, I'm not officially starting until tomorrow, right?"

"Of course, of course. But I will admit, you still made a better cup of coffee than Laura any day," Remington stated softly.

From the open doorway of Laura's office, he heard her interject, "I heard that!"

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath. "I guess I better get working on something before Laura brings me a stack of files to sign off." He slunk into his office and closed the door behind him.

Bernice looked at Mildred, wide-eyed, "Are they always like this?"

Mildred laughed, "Oh, honey, this is just the beginning. I've watched these two kids dance around here for the last few years, and I have to say, I'm glad they finally came to their senses."

Bernice took several steps toward the small break room. "Coffee still in here?" she paused.

"You got it! But don't worry. I made a fresh pot before they got here. I'll get it for him," Mildred smiled and sidestepped the younger woman. She appeared a minute later carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. "Tell you what. How about you bring this to Mrs. Steele, and I'll take care of the boss?"

"I thought that was Laura? Or did that change too?" Bernice questioned.

Mildred gently turned Bernice around toward Laura's office. "She is… but it makes him feel better when I call him that." Bernice couldn't help but laugh as Mildred knocked on Remington's office door and announced, "Here, Boss, I have your coffee. What do you need from me?"

Bernice stepped into Laura's office, "Here you go. One hot cup of coffee."

Laura looked up and nodded, the phone firmly pressed against her shoulder as she jotted down the reply from the advertisement department at the newspaper. "Okay, great. Thank you," she stated before she dropped the receiver onto the phone cradle.

Bernice sat in one of the chairs across from Laura's desk. "Laura, are you sure this is going to be a good idea?" she asked nervously.

"Bernice, what are you talking about? This is perfect!" Laura immediately replied. She took a swallow of the steaming mug and sighed, "Mr. Steele is right… Mildred's coffee is much better than mine. Your's too."

Bernice shook her head, "I feel like I've been out of this for so long, I might not be up for it."

Laura stood and walked around her desk to stand beside her friend. "Bernice, you were here, right from the beginning. It's going to be like riding a bike… give it a few days, and you'll be right back in the swing of things. Honestly, not much has changed. The phone rings, you answer it. Clients come in, and you let us know. Supplies need to be ordered… that's your department," she assured her.

Bernice glanced over at Remington's door and sighed, "Except now you're no longer itchy… and the man of mystery is your husband."

Laura tipped her head at Remington's door and whispered, "Who said I wasn't still itchy. Sometimes, there aren't enough hours in the day to take care of that."

Bernice's mouth dropped open, "Laura! Please tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying? Mr. Good-looking isn't…?"

Laura laughed long and loud before she admitted, "On the contrary… he's that good… so good, you never want it to end."

"Oh, do tell!" Bernice implored.

Without warning, the door separating Laura and Remington's office opened, and Remington appeared, "Do tell what?"

Laura immediately fingered the collar of her blouse, and she stumbled, "Bernice just asked me to tell her about the case we were working on… you know, the one for Mr. Clarke."

Remington sized up the blush of color in Laura's cheeks and the raised eyebrow Bernice was currently sporting. "You mean, your father. Did you get in touch with the newspaper?" he asked.

"It'll run tomorrow. You were right. We were too late for today's copy," Laura replied quickly as Bernice's mouth dropped open.

"Your father?" she probed. When Laura didn't immediately answer, she rose to her feet and tilted her head. "Laura, you didn't tell me you were working on a case for your father."

Laura sighed, "Well, it's not for my father exactly. You see, Russell Clarke, an old friend of my father, received a letter asking him to find a key. And Russell brought it to us, hoping we could help him. One thing led to another… my father showed up here and -"

"Stop. Your father showed up… here… after how many years?" Bernice demanded.

Seeing Laura's obvious discomfort, Remington stated, "He didn't want Laura involved, but after a man to man talk, he realized he was wrong. So, we did as he asked, we found the key, we found the contents of the safe deposit box and now we wait."

"Wait for what?" Bernice asked.

"The FBI," Laura stated before pressing her lips tightly together.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Three days later, Laura and Remington set out just before nine for the two-hour ride to Imperial Beach. They drove through the city until they reached Interstate 5. The day was warm. The sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky as they followed the coastline. At Laura's suggestion, they had taken the Rabbit, and with the roof down, the warm wind whipped Laura's hair about. She toyed with the strands that had found their way out of the band she used to hold it back.

Knowing Laura was anxious about the meeting, Remington decided it would be best if she drove. He knew it would keep her distracted, if only for the moment. "Laura, you are more familiar with these roads, and I think I'd like to enjoy the scenery, the smell of the salt air as we skirt the open road on the coast," he appealed to her.

Remington knew when she only picked at her breakfast that morning. She was much more nervous than she tried to portray. As they drove, he adjusted his sunglasses and tugged on his ear. He shifted in his seat several times before he finally pulled a toothpick out of his jacket pocket. He tucked the thin strip of wood into the corner of his mouth to pacify his own tension.

"I had Mildred look into some of those names we found in your father's journals," Remington began as they neared the next leg of their drive.

"Really?" Laura simply replied. "Did she find anything?"

Remington flipped the toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue and stated, "She did, but I don't think you're going to like what she found."

"Why? Because it has something to do with the mob?" Laura tossed back.

"How did you-" Remington sputtered.

"I did my own research, too. I didn't want to be going into this completely blind, so I thought if I could figure out a little bit of the who, he could fill in the whys," Laura explained.

Remington pursed his lips together and nodded, "All right then. Let's play the game, Laura. I'll tell you what I know, thanks to Mildred and you fill in any blanks." Laura glanced over at him with a twinkle in her eye for the first time that day, giving him a glimmer of hope she was handling the entire process better than he hoped.

"Fire away, Mr. Steele," she teased.

"All right then, J-Dip, AKA Joe dip, real name, Joseph Dippolito," Remington began.

Laura smiled, "The Italian mob boss who was convicted in 1969 of perjury. Apparently, he lied multiple times during a liquor license inquiry. He was arrested and convicted, and while he was in prison, he was recognized as the Los Angeles Italian Mob underboss."

Remington nodded his approval, "Very good, Laura. Now, how about J-Drag?"

Laura flashed him another dimpled smile before she checked her rearview mirror and crossed over to the next lane, "Jack Dragna. He ran extortion rings and a couple of illegal liquor distillation operations in the 1950s."

"Did you know he was also considered the Capone of Los Angeles and was boss of the LA crime family for almost twenty-five years?" Remington challenged.

"I guess Mildred's research was a little more thorough than mine," Laura admitted.

Remington flicked the toothpick into the wind before he ran his fingers along his chin, "What I really want to know is what does your father have to do with all of this? I mean, there are a dozen or so more names, just like this on his list."

Laura exhaled through her teeth as she shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, but I'm sure my father will have the answers. Otherwise, why would he go through all of this? I don't think this has been a fourteen-year goose chase."

"No, I think you're right about that. Whatever your father documented in these journals must have some pretty great importance for him to disappear like that," Remington agreed.

"So, today is all about getting those answers, nothing more," Laura declared.

Remington reached over and took Laura's hand in his, "No, Laura, today is about so much more than that. You already know he still loves you simply by the fact he broke whatever silence he's been in all these years just to try to warn you off. He still cares, and that means a lot."

Laura squeezed his hand back before adding, "Or he's still protecting himself. I'm not jumping to any conclusions until I hear what he has to say."

They rode in silence for the remainder of the journey to Imperial Beach. As they drove through the quiet city, Remington couldn't help notice the state the businesses were in. Many restaurants were closed, their exteriors looking dilapidated. He saw several signs warning beach-goers of toxic sewage from Tijuana. As they neared the parking area for the private docks, he couldn't help comment, "I can understand why this is the only way on or off that island. It's secluded, doesn't appear to have very many visitors. Easy to monitor who belongs and who doesn't, I would guess."

"Not the place you'd think the FBI would be hiding someone, is it?" Laura stated. She parked between several other cars in an effort for the Rabbit to blend in. Together, they snapped the roof back in place, and Laura collected the box of ledgers from the trunk. "Ready, Mr. Steele?" she asked with a lift of her chin.

"Ready when you are, Mrs. Steele," he replied. Together they followed the boardwalk to the end where they spotted the red-painted dock, and a lone, fiberglass boat bobbed gently. The pair approached cautiously, and when a man appeared from the cabin, Remington called out, "That's a nice Starcraft you've got there?"

"Maybe," the man replied. He stood on the deck, folded his arms across his chest, and questioned, "Can I help you folks?"

Laura glanced at Remington before her eyes drifted down to the box in her arms. Raising her chin, she stated, "We're here about a circus poster."

"Names?" the man demanded.

"I'm Laura Steele... Laura Holt Steele. And this is Remington Steele," Laura stated firmly.

The man shook his head once before he called down into the open cuddy cabin, "They're here." A second man appeared, only he was sporting a badge on his belt, and in his hand, he held a nine-millimeter Glock. "Mr. and Mrs. Steele, it's a pleasure, but you do understand we need to search you before we get underway," the second man stated.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Remington declared. "Would you like to see some identification, in the event we aren't who we say we are?"

"No need. We know who you are," the first man informed them. "I am Agent Murphy. This is Special Agent Molloy."

Special Agent Molloy opened the gangway and stepped onto the red-painted dock. Remington held his hands high to allow the agent to search him before he stepped to Laura. She placed the box on the ground and held her hands high as well. He glanced into the box, lifted the corner of several notebooks. When he was satisfied with his cursory examination, he stated, "Thanks for the cooperation. Now, let's get aboard and shove off. It's about an hour's ride to the island, so I hope you don't get seasick."

"Thanks, mate," Remington replied before offering his hand to Laura to climb onto the vessel.

"I'll tuck that box into the cabin, so it doesn't get wet," Agent Murphy held his hands out. Laura tentatively handed the box over after he reassured her, "Don't worry, Mrs. Steele. I'll put it where you can see it at all times. There are twenty years of investigation in that box, and I'm not about to risk my career or your father's life for it now."

Special Agent Molloy began to untie the lines anchoring the vessel to the dock. "Before we shove off, life jackets are under the seats. The head is down below. There are some waters in the galley with some crackers if you're in need," he rattled off.

Laura and Remington settled themselves topside as the inboard engines roared to life. Soon, they were underway, skimming across the surface of the water as they raced toward the island and Laura's father. An hour later, Laura's stomach tightened when they approached the rocky shore of the island. She couldn't help be mesmerized by the tall, white lighthouse standing guard and the sweep of land behind it. Unconsciously, she reached out for Remington's hand only to be reassured silently as he squeezed it in return.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Laura and Remington carefully climbed off the StarCraft, onto the ladder that would bring them to the upper level of the dock, as the small boat was tossed around by the surging waves below. "Watch your footing," Remington warned as they slowly climbed the wet, slippery rungs. When they reached the top, Remington stopped and retrieved the box of notebooks from Agent Murphy, allowing him to climb to the top freely.

"Thanks. It's tough when the tide's out like this," Agent Murphy nodded.

Remington handed the box back to Laura as Special Agent Molloy announced, "Follow me. The others are waiting for us."

Together, the small group followed the dock to the rocky shoreline, where another agent was waiting for them on a worn path through the tall seagrass. "Where's Harry?" Agent Murphy asked. Remington immediately lifted his eyebrows in Laura's direction and nervously swallowed. He opened his mouth to speak when they heard a sharp bark coming from around the bend.

Without warning, a large black and brown German Shephard charged in their direction, growling and snarling. Laura tried to hide behind Remington before a voice called out, "Anhalten!" The beast immediately froze where he was, his body tense with energy as he waited for his next command. The agent appeared to be carrying a leather leash in his hand. He stopped beside the dog and surveyed Laura and Remington. "Place the box on the ground, please," the man commanded.

Laura scrambled to drop the box and hide behind Remington once more. "Laura, I'm sure the dog isn't going to hurt us if we do everything Agent…." his voice trailed off as he awaited an introduction.

"Sanders," the man replied. "Eli Sanders, Sergeant in the Air Combat Command security forces." He looked down at the dog beside him, standing at full attention, "Voran!" The muscular canine immediately surged forward and sniffed the box Laura had placed on the ground. Finding nothing, he circled Remington and Laura, sniffing every inch he could reach. Satisfied, he returned to Eli and sat beside him, his ears still perched high on his head, awaiting his next command. Eli reached into his pocket and retrieved a small treat that the dog readily gobbled up. Eli leaned down and scratched behind one pert ear as he introduced, "This, here, is Harry. He's one of our elite dogs."

A grin slowly appeared across Remington's face as he stated, "Harry, eh? What is Harry's job on the island?"

Hearing his name, Harry slowly lowered his body to the ground, and his tongue lolled to the side. Eli glanced down at the dog and shook his head. "Harry is here to be sure that no one brings drugs or bombs onto the island. He's nearing retirement, so this might be his last hoorah."

Laura studied Harry carefully, "Retirement? He doesn't look that old."

"Actually, Harry is only three and a half, but he's seen more action than any one man or dog should. He's got an issue with loud noises now, so the military thought he'd do better with a less stressful assignment," Eli explained.

Remington knelt down on one knee so he could look at the dog easier. Without warning, Harry pounced forward. Remington braced for impact, but to everyone's surprise, Harry simply placed his head on Remington's hand and waited. Remington looked up with wide eyes at Eli. "He's never done that before," Eli admitted. "Or at least, I've never seen him do that."

Remington rubbed Harry's snout and ears before he gave him several long strokes down his neck. "He seems pretty friendly," Remington announced to Laura, who followed his lead and rubbed the dog gently.

"We should get moving, now that you've passed Harry's test. Everyone else is waiting inside," Special Agent Molloy stated.

"Harry, Komm," Eli commanded. Harry huffed his displeasure but quickly stood on all fours and followed Eli back down the path, Laura, Remington, and the other agents in tow.

"Sergeant Sanders, what language are those commands in?" Laura asked, completely intrigued.

"German!" he immediately responded. "It helps Harry identify the difference between a command and an everyday word like walk or food." Harry's tail began to wag twice as fast at the mention of the word food. "I know, Harry, food is your favorite word." Once again, he reached into his pocket and produced a small treat that Harry readily accepted.

The group neared the entrance to the lighthouse keeper's cottage attached to the base of the lighthouse. Laura once again reached out and grasped Remington's arm as they stepped into the dimly lit anteroom. They followed Special Agent Molloy to a sitting room where he placed the cardboard box on a small table beside John Holt. On the couch, opposite him, sat another man sporting a shoulder harness and gun holster. He stood and stepped in front of John until everyone was in the room. "It's okay, Greg. This is Mrs. Laura Holt Steele and Mr. Remington Steele," Special Agent Molloy stated. "They have found the ledgers John hid years ago."

"As I knew she would," John stated loudly. He pushed himself to his feet and exhaled loudly as he made eye contact with Laura. "Thank you. I thought Russ could handle it, but when I found out he went to you two, well, I knew there could only be one outcome."

Laura dug her nails into Remington's arm as she fought the urge to lash out at her father. "Why now? What's so important about those damn ledgers now?" she demanded.

"Laura, I'm sure your father has a good reason-" Remington began, but Laura shot him a look filled with daggers and questioned, "A good reason? For leaving his family without any contact for fourteen years?"

John stepped forward and raised his hand to touch her arm, "Loo-Loo, look, I'm sorry. I didn't want any of this to happen. When I finally figured out what was happening all around me, I knew I had to do something or risk you, your mother, or your sister from getting hurt or worse. I didn't know it was going to take this long for the FBI to get to this point, where they now have enough evidence to finally go after these people."

"These people? You're talking about the Mob!" Laura snapped.

"Laura," Remington leaned close to her, but Laura wasn't listening. All of her anger was wholly focused on her father.

"Let me guess… you were involved with them, weren't you? You were part of it, and that's why you left," Laura surmised angrily.

John shook his head and snapped, "No, it wasn't like that!"

"Then, what was it, huh? They put a hit out on you, so you turned state's evidence in exchange for protection?" Laura continued her tirade.

"Lau-ra," Remington droned louder in an attempt to get her attention.

"I didn't want to leave! I would have given everything to stay right there with you," John insisted.

Remington knew he had to do something before Laura crossed a line, so he quickly wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her out of the room, much to the surprise of everyone else. "What are you doing?!" she snapped.

"Saving you from saying something you might regret," Remington retorted.

Laura pressed her fingers to her forehead and groaned, "I don't need saving!"

"Then stop acting like a child right now and listen to what the man has to say," Remington demanded.

Laura clenched her teeth and stared at him, "I am _not_ a child anymore, Mr. Steele!"

Remington held up his hands in surrender and stated, "Then speak to your father like the grown woman you are and not the hurt little girl he left behind."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Laura sat stiffly on the couch beside Remington as Sergeant Sanders passed out mugs of tea. She accepted the steaming cup without a word as she waited for her father to give her an explanation. She was becoming more impatient the longer time passed.

"Thanks, mate," Remington accepted the mug with a half-smile before he dropped his free hand back onto Harry's head. As soon as Remington sat down, the dog perched himself between Laura and Remington, leaning against Remington's long legs, and his furry head resting on his knees. Sergeant Sanders started to call Harry off, but Remington insisted it was fine.

"All right, I want an explanation," Laura huffed indignantly. She tapped her short nails off the side of the porcelain mug.

John took a healthy swig of his tea before he spoke. "I need you to understand, Laura, when this began, I had no idea what was really happening. I had just started my own bookkeeping office… you remember… down on Sunset. That little one-room space above the laundromat," he recalled.

Laura sighed and responded with a subtle nod of her head.

"Anyway, one of my first clients was the owner of the laundromat, Jack Dragna," John continued.

"The mob boss?" Laura questioned.

John nodded, "Yes, but I didn't know that at the time. You were young when I started the business, and Jack was at the end of his reign. But he said he trusted me and he introduced me to a few of his friends. They trusted me, and before I knew it, I was knee-deep in the business, only it was the business I should never have gotten involved in."

Laura couldn't hide the grunt of indignation that escaped her lips.

"Laura, please! You have to understand… I worked that business for ten years before things got complicated. I really didn't know what was happening under my own nose. You see, they needed someone that was completely legit running their books. That was me," John explained. "I found everything out by accident. One month the runner for the Old Man dropped off the wrong book. I was halfway through the entries when he showed up demanding I give it back to him. I just played dumb and pretended I never even saw it. I mean, what else was I going to do, right?"

Remington gave the man a sympathetic look. He knew Laura's cold shoulder treatment was much worse than the bite of her words. "So, John, what happened after that," he encouraged.

John took another sip of his tea and continued, "I had already transcribed half the book, so I started making comparisons and found the pattern. Then it was easy to see it in the other businesses as well. They didn't know I knew, so I reached out to the local FBI field office to see what I should do with the information."

Special Agent Molloy stood and interjected, "What John had in those notebooks was way more than we ever got on our own. He pieced together the money laundering schemes we couldn't touch, not to mention payoffs for certain governmental officials."

Remington couldn't help but smile and nudge Laura, "Officials on the take… just like old times, eh, Laura." She gave him a weak smile in return.

"But as soon as I did that, it was like… I don't know… paranoia set in. Or they knew… but I felt like I was being watched, followed, everywhere I went. I tried to tell your mother about it… I wanted to get us all into safety, but she was just argue I was ridiculous or I made the whole thing up," John shook his head as the memories flooded back.

"We did everything we could to keep the arguing to a minimum around you and Frances, but-" John stated.

"No, you didn't! We heard every word. You think hiding behind closed doors worked? Well, it didn't!" Laura snapped.

John pushed himself to his feet and stood in front of Laura. "I'm sorry. If I could have changed everything, I would," he cried. "But all I knew is I had to leave and leave fast because one night I was being followed. I'm not sure who it was, but I was scared. I didn't even go home that night. Instead, I headed to a local bar and stayed there until they closed. Then I slept in my car at Los Amantes Lookout, and the next day I drove right to the FBI's main offices. They told me they would put me under protection if I could provide them with all the information I had. So, I went to the office and packed everything up. I headed home to pack a bag, and I remembered I forgot my weekly deposit back at the office, so I went back to get it thinking I was going to need the cash…" He paused to bend down eye level with Laura, "When I went back, my office was completely destroyed. I mean, papers everywhere. I knew the deposit was locked up tight in the small safe I had, so I grabbed that, and as I headed down the back stairs, I smelled the fire. I figured it was set on purpose, you know."

Laura stared at her father, and for the first time, she saw the lines of age on his face, creasing his forehead. She noticed the grey peppered through his auburn hair, the same shade as her own. She saw the freckles that dotted his skin enlarged with age spots from spending too much time in the sun. And she saw the pain in his deep brown eyes as they stared back at her. She immediately broke eye contact and waited for him to continue.

"I figured whoever it was that set the fire didn't know I had the books, so I thought it would be better if I could hide everything first, just in case someone caught up with me before I had a chance," John stood.

"And that's when you went to the bank?" Remington surmised.

John crossed the room and leaned against the heavy fireplace mantle, "Yes. I thought if I hid the books there, then I had nothing for anyone to tie me to them. I went home, and thanks to some grace of God or something, but Abigail had taken you, girls, to visit my mother for the day."

"So you packed everything and left us," Laura muttered, her voice devoid of emotion as the memories of that day filled her mind.

"I spent the rest of the day putting my life and memories in storage and hiding those damn keys so that one day… I could go back home with my family, where I belonged," John cried. A silent tear drifted down his cheek until he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Remington nudged Harry to move as he stood and asked, "Why did it take so long for anyone to go looking for the information you had? I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand you were only looking out for your family, but that was a long time ago."

Special Agent Molloy stepped beside John and stated, "I can answer that. Our first goal was to be sure that Mr. Holt was safe. He took a big risk coming to us, and we wanted to ensure he was going to be around long enough to return to his family. As we began our own investigation into his claims based on the information he remembered, we discovered several corrupt agents and judges in our very departments. There are only a select number of men who actually know John Holt is alive and the only ones who know where he is are in this room."

Remington glanced at the box of ledgers and asked, "But why didn't any of you get those? I'm sure you could have gotten a court order to release the box."

"And with that, we would have put Mr. Holt in danger. The mob has men everywhere. We chose to wait it out. We tried several times to find the hidden keys to make things easier, but we never could," Special Agent Molloy explained.

"Why didn't you have him get the key? A good disguise would have worked easily," Laura suggested.

"We tried that," Agent Murphy interjected. "Only we couldn't get near the tunnels at that point. We had just had that earthquake back in seventy-three, and they were working on restructuring. We kept our fingers crossed that section of the tunnel was intact, but again, once we were able to get in there and search, we couldn't find anything."

John pointed at Laura, "I knew you'd find it, though. I knew you wouldn't stop looking until you found it, and you'd remember that day we played in the tunnels. Remember, we put the markers up, so we knew how to get back out."

Laura's face went white as the memories flooded back in full force. "Hide and seek… only it wasn't just a game. You said you always wanted me to remember the safe way out because you knew I was going to go down there alone."

"It was your idea to paint the red and white circles," John reminded her as he knelt before her once again.

"Because you said no one would ever know the true meaning behind it but us," Laura whispered.

John gave her a weak smile as he began, "Red and white… just like-"

"A circus tent," Laura finished for him before she reached out and held his hands tightly as her tears streamed down her face.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

After several long, tense minutes, Laura gasped, "I need some air." She stood abruptly and headed outside alone. Remington scrambled to his feet to go after her, but her father stopped him.

"No, let me talk to her. I need to finish this. She needs to know the truth," John stated with a raised hand. Sergeant Sanders stood to follow him. "Eli, I need to do this alone. We'll be fine. Send Harry if you're worried."

Eli looked down at the canine, who had sensed the tension in the room and was now standing at full attention. "Harry, Achtung," he commanded. Harry followed John to the door and stayed beside him as they disappeared outside after Laura.

Remington couldn't help but question, "Will he keep them safe?"

"He would die before he let anything happen to them," Eli assured him. "Your wife is headed toward the horses. She will be safe there."

"Horses?" Remington asked.

"Horses," Eli nodded.

Outside, Laura stood, mesmerized by the herd of wild horses grazing on the grass behind the lighthouse. The wind whipped her hair around her face as she began to walk slowly toward them. As soon as she got close to one, it skittered away.

"You can't touch them," John stated behind her. "They won't let you… the horses I mean."

Without turning to face him, she asked, "Where did they come from?"

"Pirates brought them here," John replied, his voice louder as he approached her.

"Pirates? But how?" she questioned in disbelief. She turned only when she felt the warm body of Harry bumping against her leg. She reached down and scratched his head between his ears as her father continued closer.

John laughed loudly; the sound triggering memories buried deep in Laura's subconscious. "Legend says a shipwreck from Simon Mascarino, a Portuguese pirate, brought the horses here. They've thrived on this island ever since," he explained. He pointed to the far end of the island and added, "There are caves all down there. The horses take refuse in during some of the worst storms."

"How long have you been here?" Laura asked softly.

John looked out over the water at the horizon. "They brought me here after moving me around Northern California for two years. They said they needed me to stay close enough, so when the time came, and we could easily get the ledgers, we would," he stated sadly.

"All this time, you've been this close. I don't understand," Laura admitted.

John put his hands on her shoulders and turned her body to face him, "Laura, if I ever thought there was a way I could have brought you with me, I would have done it, in a heartbeat. But the FBI… they figured it was safer this way."

"Didn't the mob know you had a family? I thought they knew everything about everybody they worked with?" Laura demanded as she brushed the windswept strands of hair off her face.

"That's just it. They didn't know. Abigail never wanted pictures of you girls around the office. She claimed business should be business, and family should stay out of it. No one knew. I didn't talk about you to my clients, as much as I wanted to. I respected your mother's wishes that way. She only wanted to keep you and Frances safe, and all I wanted was to brag about your accomplishments, but I'm glad I didn't. She was right all along," John stated. "If I had talked about you… if I had pictures… you wouldn't have been safe. They would have found you and used you as leverage to get what I had."

Laura studied the sandy stones beneath her feet before she lifted her chin and inquired, "Does Mother know? Any of it?"

John shook his head, "Not really. I tried to tell her, Loo-Loo. I tried. But she insisted it was all in my head. That I was making a mountain out of a molehill."

"Kind of like Frances is now… the littlest things, and she sees the worst in all of it. Now I understand where she gets it from," Laura teased half-heartedly.

"But you have to know, I still care. I never stopped caring. Your mother, your sister, and you, Laura. Every holiday, every birthday, the important days I've missed. It burns me up, thinking that they did this! They took it all away," John groused angrily. He balled his fists by his sides as he fought with his own emotions. "No more. This ends now. I can't spend another day living in fear like this." He reached out for Laura's hand and added, "Not another day without my family. I want to be a family again."

Laura gave his hand a squeeze, followed by a weak smile. She released his hand and began to walk away from him, Harry still walking close to her side, leaving her father standing alone. As she followed the narrow path through the grass, she began to run, Harry keeping up with her, stride for stride. She could hear her father calling after her, but she needed to contemplate everything he had told her. The only way she could do that was by putting space between them.

Inside the lighthouse living quarters, Remington tensed as he watched Laura through the fuzzy,salt-sprayed windows. When she took off running, he immediately scrambled to the door, Sergeant Sanders only steps behind asking, "What's going on?"

Remington didn't answer. He simply ran toward John Holt, now standing alone, watching his daughter in the distance. "What did you say to her?" Remington demanded.

"Nothing… I just told her the truth," John stammered.

"But what did you…" Remington trailed off as he began to lose sight of her in the distance. "Bloody hell!" Remington swore before he took off in a full-sprint after Laura.

"What did I say?" John called after him, his words becoming lost in the wind the further Remington got.

Remington's long strides closed the gap between him and Laura as she continued toward the caves at the other end of the island. The stone walls rose from the edge, where the land met the sea. She came to an abrupt stop, gasping for breath as her tears flowed. She lowered herself onto a large rock and dropped her head into her hands. Harry tried to bump her hands aside, to inspect her face and lap at the wetness on her cheeks. Unsuccessfully, Laura tried to push him away, but he buried his head against her chest and refused to move.

"Laura!" Remington called out as he drew closer. He watched her lift her head and brush away another tear. "Hey," he whispered when he finally reached her, and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing. Harry pressed his body against her legs in comfort. Harry, then, tried to worm his body between them. Remington looked down at the soulful eyes of the dog and stated, "Harry, a moment, please?" Harry exhaled, backed up, and sat off to the side, his eyes never leaving Laura. "Laura, what did he say to you?" Remington asked fear and concern threading through every word.

Laura shook her head and whispered, "He said the words I've been waiting to hear for fourteen years. He still cares, and he wants to be a family again."

Remington glanced back toward the lighthouse, standing erect at the other end of the small island. He could see the distant forms of John Holt and Sergeant Sanders standing where he left them. He rubbed Laura's back and asked softly, "Is that what you really want, Laura? Do you want him back in your life after all these years?" "I don't know," Laura groaned. "And with Mother moving back to California… it's too much. I don't know what to do?"

Remington chuckled. "You, the impressive Laura Holt Steele, doesn't know what to do?" he teased. Laura lifted her chin, confused. "The woman, who single-handedly, created a mysterious boss and built a business around a myth, is stumped at how to handle something mundane as family?" he continued. Seeing he had her full attention now, he added, "Laura, I may not know much about being in a family, but I do know one thing. That man down there truly cares for you. And Abigail, with all her faults, deep down, only has your best interests at heart. So, with that being said, I think if you take it slow, you might be able to build a new relationship with him as you have with your mother."

Laura fingered the buttons on the front of his shirt as she agreed, "Things have been better with Mother, haven't they?"

"Yes, and I think, over time, you could have something like that with your father as well," Remington assured her. He hugged her close and tucked her head under his chin as he added, "It's going to be interesting to see how Frances responds to all of this."

"Frances," Laura breathed. She thought about her sister and how the new changes would affect her. "She's never been good with change," Laura admitted.

Remington's lips curled upward in a slight grin, "But she's not seeing vampire bats anymore."

Laura couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips, "No, Mr. Steele, she isn't seeing vampire bats anymore. Nor is she calling me every other day in a panic. She has settled down a little more since we've gotten back from Ireland."

"As have we, Mrs. Steele," Remington reminded her. "We should probably head back. I'm sure those FBI agents are chomping at the bit back there, wondering what is going on."

"And I'm sure my father is wondering, too," Laura added. She left her arm around Remington's waist as they began walking back up the path. Behind her, she heard a small whimper. She looked back to see Harry still sitting beside the large rock. Smiling, she called to the canine, "Come on, Harry. Let's go back." Harry bolted forward, his tongue lolling to the side as his tail wagged from side to side. He led the way on the narrow path to where Laura's father stood, nervously waiting.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The small boat bounced across the waves as Laura and Remington headed back to Imperial Beach, leaving John Holt and the other FBI agents on the island. Special Agent Molloy assured Laura her father would be safe on the island, and he would remain there until after the grand jury trial. Laura settled herself against Remington and silently stewed in her thoughts as they sped across the water. At one point, Remington even checked to see if she had fallen asleep only to see her pensive expression as she stared out at the horizon. They arrived at the red dock as the sun was beginning to dip in the sky, leaving long shadows on the ground. "We'll be in touch soon," Agent Murphy nodded as Laura and Remington slowly departed the vessel.

"For what it's worth, your father never stopped talking about you," Special Agent Molloy assured Laura before they went their separate ways. The boat sped back toward the island, and Laura and Remington returned to the Rabbit for the ride home.

"You drive," Laura stated before handing him her keys.

Remington exhaled slowly and suggested, "Laura, let's stop for a bite to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she muttered her reply as she climbed into the car and slammed the door. Remington watched as she rubbed her fingers across her furrowed brow, a clear sign she was frustrated.

He climbed into the drivers' seat, but instead of starting the car, he turned to her and took her hand in his. "Laura, you need to eat. You haven't eaten anything all day," Remington tried.

"That's not true. I ate breakfast," Laura defended without looking at him.

"I beg to differ. Pushing your breakfast around your dish this morning does not constitute eating a meal," Remington disagreed. "Look, I know today was hard, but just think… you've finally gotten some answers anyway."

Laura twisted in her seat to look at him, her dark eyes burning, "So what, it's over? The end? We should all live happily ever after now?"

"No," Remington shook his head, "No, I see this more like the beginning. And this isn't a fairy tale we're living in, although I'm still pinching myself from time to time, hoping everything isn't a dream."

Laura gave him a weak smile as she inhaled sharply, "But where do we go from here? Like you said before, I'm not that sad child he left behind. I'm a grown woman with a career, a business, a new husband. Where does he fit in this now?"

Remington cradled her face in one hand, his thumb stroking the soft, freckled skin on her cheek. "He fits where ever you want him to fit. Or he doesn't fit at all. It's up to you," he suggested.

Laura dropped her eyes and focused on the rhythmic stroke of his thumb. She relaxed slightly, the tension beginning to lessen in her jaw. "I guess you're right."

Across the parking lot, Remington noticed a small group of teenage boys gathering. "We should get a move on, love. I have a feeling this isn't the type of neighborhood we want to get caught in after dark," he nodded. He quickly inserted the key, and the Rabbit roared to life. Before the group reached them, Remington was speeding across the parking lot to the street.

They drove in relative silence until they were beyond the outskirts of Imperial Beach heading toward I-5. Twenty minutes later, they pulled off the highway and found a small restaurant in San Diego. Once their meal arrived, Laura began pushing the pasta around the plate until Remington raised an eyebrow, pointed at the dish with his fork, and ordered her, "Eat."

Several bites later, Laura's hunger took over, and she finished her dish happily. Deciding she needed to talk about something neutral, she asked, "How do you like having Bernice back around the office?"

Remington chewed his bite thoughtfully before stating, "Well, she's not as efficient as Mildred, but I guess that's to be expected."

"Not as efficient? What makes you say that?" Laura asked incredulously. She thought back over the last few days, and everything Bernice had done. She had quickly learned the new filing system Mildred had created, never let the phone ring more than twice before answering, took excellent phone messages, and even stayed late to learn the computer system.

Remington raised his eyebrows playfully as he teased, "Well, let's see. The morning paper wasn't on my desk yesterday, nor was the coffee ready and waiting for us. I had to ask her several times to get the new file for Recovery together, and she used my bathroom, Laura. I thought those days were long gone."

"What?" Laura blinked several times as she processed his words.

"I'm just going to say… she left hair in the sink after she fixed herself up for that big date she had," Remington continued with a smirk. It took another few seconds before his infectious grin had her laughing as she realized he was only joking with her. "Actually, Laura, I'm quite pleased with Ms. Foxx. She's done a remarkable job, stepping into Mildred's shoes," he admitted.

Laura grinned back at him. "I see you've finally gotten her name right. It really is nice having her back. It's like a piece of home all over again. She was there from the beginning, and I forgot how much I missed her."

Remington lifted his fork and pointed it in Laura's direction, "Don't get any ideas about Murphy. As much as he and I have our understanding, I'm not ready to go toe to toe with him every day."

Laura shook her head, "You don't have to worry about Murph. He's quite happy in Denver. And, as a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised to hear wedding bells ringing for him and Sherry soon."

"Hmmm, well, I'm sure when the time is right, he'll ring you straight away to give you the good news," Remington assured her. He glanced at his watch and sighed, "We've still got a two-hour ride ahead of us. We should get going."

"Very well, Mr. Steele. And tomorrow, we should check in with the builders. See what progress they've made on the house," Laura suggested.

"Yes, good idea, Mrs. Steele. Monroe called me to give me an update, but we should take a ride by. After all, your mother hasn't decided exactly when she's moving, and we should be prepared for anything at this point," Remington agreed.

Laura looked down at her wedding rings. She toyed with the gem-encrusted jewelry for a moment and added, "And I'm sure Gladys Lynch will be making an appearance soon. It's been a while."

Remington wiped his mouth with his napkin and signaled for the waitress to bring their check. "I still don't understand how she can dispute the legitimacy of our marriage after all the evidence we've presented to her. Not only did we give her a full album of photos from both Ireland and Greece, but we've also got pictures with friends and family, an actual marriage certificate, and a sworn statement from Father Michael," he stated firmly. "What more could the woman want?" he added.

"Well, considering our track record of honestly didn't start off on the right foot, I'm sure she's going to be as thorough as she has to be. And I have a feeling she will take the entire two years to prove our marriage is false. I'm sure your forced smiles and stuttering each time she's around doesn't help the matter," Laura shrugged.

"Forced smiles? Stuttering? What about your treakly tones?" Remington shot back.

"Treakly tones? I'm just reacting to you, lambchop!" Laura replied between clenched teeth as she attempted to keep her volume low.

Remington opened his mouth to reply when he realized a few of the other patrons in the restaurant were now staring at them. He swiped at his mouth before he whispered, "Excuse me for trying to keep things… things… happy when Ms. Lynch is in our presence. Perhaps this is what she should really see, eh?" He folded his arms defiantly and leaned back in his seat, his eyes searching for the waitress.

Laura immediately began laughing when she remembered the look on Gladys Lynch's face when they first arrived home from Greece. "I think she already has, Mr. Steele. Remember the hallway of the apartment? You couldn't find your keys?"

"And you and I were arguing about the flight home," he smiled back, his ire subsiding. "You know, speaking of that argument, I haven't seen that bathing suit since we've arrived home."

"You haven't brought me anywhere to wear it," Laura simply replied.

"That sounds like a challenge, Mrs. Steele," Remington leaned forward onto his folded arms.

Laura leaned forward, and with a wink, she added, "Are you up for it?"

"When it comes to you, my love, that is never a question," he teased back before puckering his lips and blowing her a kiss.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Just as Laura suspected, Gladys Lynch did indeed make her appearance at the office first thing in the morning. Laura was sitting in her office, reviewing the monthly bills when she heard the dry tone of Gladys' voice, "Mrs. Steele."

"She's in her office. Do you have an appointment?" Bernice asked politely.

"It's that door, isn't it?" Gladys questioned as she stepped toward Laura's mostly closed office door.

Bernice stood and called out, "You can't go in there!"

Inwardly, Laura groaned as she steeled herself for another onslaught of questions from the INS representative. She stood and opened the door, finding Gladys only a step away. "It's okay, Bernice, Ms. Lynch doesn't need an appointment. It's nice to see you again. Would you like to come into my office and we can talk," Laura stated with a forced smile.

Gladys rolled her eyes, "Where is Mr. Steele?"

As if on cue, Remington could be heard shouting in his office, "Bloody hell! What do you mean there's going to be a delay? Isn't that what they're getting paid for?"

"He's on the phone right now," Laura stated dryly. She held the door as Gladys passed her. She glanced over at Bernice, who was now mouthing "Who is she?" to which Laura simply mouthed back, "Later." She closed the door behind the woman and eased back to her chair. "What brings you by this morning, Ms. Lynch?"

"Well, it's been a while since my last visit. I have reviewed all the documentation you've sent to my office, and I have to say, I'm impressed with your thoroughness this time. We've requested character statements from the staff at Ashford Castle, as it seems you spent a fair bit of time there prior to your second marriage ceremony, as well as credential requests from Father Michael O'Callaghan in Tinalehy," she stated.

"You're questioning a priest's credentials?" Laura asked incredulously.

Gladys just blinked back at Laura before she replied, "You can never be too careful. Besides, there is a little matter of an amendment to Mr. Steele's passport we need to address. It appears his birthdate has been printed incorrectly?"

Laura nervously fingered the collar of her blouse. "Yes, well, it appears so. I mean, who really looks at those things anyway," she stuttered.

The door between her office and Remington's flew open, and he burst into her office, hollering, "Dammit, Laura! One of these days..." He stopped his tirade when he noticed Gladys standing before him and Laura nervously smiling back at him. "Oh, Ms. Lynch. I didn't know you were here," he backpedaled.

"So I gather," she stated. "I'm here specifically regarding the request to the amendment of your birthdate on your passport," she explained with a raised eyebrow.

Remington panicked for only a second when he smiled and, with a flourish of his hand, uttered, "Must have been someone's first day on the job. Slipshod work if you ask me." He stopped long enough to give her a toothy grin as she blinked to process his suggestion. "Anyway, I was just coming in to inform my wife about an issue we are having in London. It seems the painters working on the building we will be using for our foundation have made a royal mess of things," he explained.

Laura tipped her head to the side and asked, "What's happened now, dear?"

Remington sidestepped Gladys and leaned against Laura's window sill. He straightened his tie before smoothing the silk material, and stated, "They've painted the woodwork in the grand ballroom. Can you believe that? Painted the woodwork. Those intricately carved architraves are now ruined, I'm sure of it." He folded his arms and humphed loudly for added effect.

Laura held back her laughter as she tried to smooth her husband's ruffled nerves, "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Laura, you do realize how old that woodwork is," Remington continued his tirade.

Laura pulled a sheet of paper out of her desk drawer and handed it to him. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but the ballroom was renovated back in the 50s. All the old wood was rotted out and replaced after the ceiling leaked. Mildred figured it out when you asked her to look into the history of owners."

Remington stared at the paper, flustered. "You mean… that wood isn't original?"

Laura shook her head, "Nope."

"It was all replaced with some… some… replacement wood made to look like the original?" he stammered.

"Sounds about right," Laura replied as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Remington pressed his hand to his chest and inhaled sharply. He quickly tossed the paper back onto Laura's desk and stated, "Well then, who cares about some painted wood then, eh?" He turned to Gladys, still standing across from them and asked, "What brings you to us today, Ms. Lynch?"

Gladys blinked several times before she asked, "What is this about?"

"What is what about? The ballroom? Well, I just thought the painters had made a grievous mistake painting the wood trim, and it seems my lovely wife is steps ahead of me with her information," Remington explained.

"No. You just said something about a foundation. What is that about?" Gladys demanded.

Laura settled herself into her office chair and began, "Upon his death, my husband's father left him a rather large inheritance with the request he organizes a foundation for homeless boys in the London area. With the help of a lawyer in London along with Lady Catherine Galt, Mr. Steele has been actively ensuring the request becomes a reality. We are expecting the doors to the Harry Daniels Foundation for Boys to open before the end of the year."

"The Harry Daniels Foundation for Boys? What will it do exactly?" Gladys questioned.

Remington settled himself onto the corner of Laura's desk as he stated, "Basically, it will give homeless boys in the London area a fighting chance of survival as well as give them the education and support they deserve."

"Really?" Gladys asked incredulously. "And what makes you such an expert on what they deserve?"

Remington smoothed his tie once more as he stated, "Because, for a time, I was one of those boys. My mother passed shortly after my birth, and by no fault of my own, I ended up on the streets of London until my father found me."

Gladys tipped her head to the side slightly and asked, "Would you care to elaborate further, Mr. Steele?"

"No," Remington replied. Laura quickly added, "I think what my husband is trying to say is that his childhood has no bearing on our marriage, and the reason you are here."

Gladys straightened her shoulders and replied, "I guess not." She inhaled sharply and stated, "I'll be seeing you again. We are not finished with our investigation."

"Ms. Lynch, before you go… would you like to take a ride with us to see the progress of our new home? After all, you will need the new address once our residence is finished," Remington flashed her a crooked smile.

Gladys narrowed her eyes in his direction as she asked, "You are building a home?"

"We most certainly are. As you well know, we've been splitting our time between the apartment at the Rossmore and the loft. Laura still owned the land where her house originally stood before it was blown up while we were working on a case a few years ago. We've recently started construction to rebuild on the property," Remington boasted.

"And where is this property you claim you still own?" Gladys turned her attention to Laura.

Laura gave her a brilliant smile and stated, "Follow us! It's only about a twenty-minute ride… if that fits into your tight schedule, that is."

Gladys sighed, "I suppose I should see this new location as you claim. After you."

"I'll get my keys," Laura declared.

"And I'll inform Mildred and Ms. Foxx we will be heading out for a short period of time," Remington announced before he disappeared back into this office.

Laura retrieved her purse from the top of the filing cabinet behind her desk, "Coming, Ms. Lynch?" Gladys fell in step behind Laura without a word.

"Ms. Foxx, we will be heading out with Ms. Lynch for a bit. Please hold any messages until our return," Remington called out as he reappeared in the lobby. He stopped at Mildred's new office door, knocked twice before opening the door, and stated, "Mildred, Laura and I will be back in an hour or so. Just heading over to check on the construction crew with Ms. Lynch."

"Sure thing, Boss," Mildred muttered past the pencil in her teeth as she hammered away at her keyboard.

Remington closed the door and announced, "Ladies, shall we go?" They left the office, Remington guiding Laura with his hand on her lower back and Gladys Lynch in tow.

Bernice scrambled out of her seat and immediately headed to Mildred's door. She had barely opened the door when she hissed, "Who was that woman?"

"Gladys Lynch. Representative of the Department of Immigration and Naturalization Services. And one tough cookie," Mildred informed Bernice.

"INS? Why?" Bernice questioned. "Is Skeezix getting deported?"

Mildred shook her head and stated, "Not if Mrs. Steele can help it!"


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

The next morning, Laura sat at the table in Frances's kitchen in Tarzania. She had her hands wrapped nervously around the coffee mug her sister had offered her. "Well, Laura, what did I do to deserve another visit from my little sister two weeks in a row?" Frances questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Laura couldn't help notice the family resemblance between Frances and their father. "I just had to talk to you about something, and I didn't think it was a conversation we should have over the phone," she stated softly.

Frances studied her sister before she slipped into the chair beside her. She reached out and touched her arm. "Are you and Remington having problems already, Laura?"

"What? No!" Laura retorted immediately.

"Well, you don't look as happy as you did last week when I saw you. If there's something going on between the two of you, I'm sure I can offer a little sisterly advice to spice things up," Frances patted Laura's arm gently.

Laura toyed with the lip of the coffee mug while a crooked grin highlighted her dimples, "That's not a problem at all, Frances, take my word on that."

"But if that's all he has to offer, that can be a problem, too," Francine stated firmly. "Oh, no, Laura, you didn't try to cook for him, again, did you?" Frances's dark eyes widened with the possibility.

Laura shook her head, "No, cooking is his department. And I'm not here because of anything going on between Mr. Steele and me."

Frances sat up straighter in her chair, smoothed her skirt, and asked, "Well, then, why are you here, Laura? Is this about Mother moving back to California? Is she having second thoughts?"

Laura rolled her eyes, "How would I know if Mother was having second thoughts?"

Frances shrugged her right shoulder, "Well, you seem to be Mother's favorite lately. After all, she called to tell _you_ she was moving back to California. I mean, she does call once a week to talk to the children, but that's about it."

"Mother calls to talk to the children?" Laura's head tilted in amazement.

"Yes, every Sunday evening since we've returned from Ireland. And she found a little ranch not too far away for Danny to take riding lessons. She even paid for the equipment he needs. I didn't realize it was so much. But the riding coach did say he was a natural and might even be able to start competing by the end of the summer," Frances straightened her back once more.

Laura gave her sister a genuine smile, "That's wonderful news! Danny must be so excited."

Frances returned her smile and reached out to touch her again, "He is. He says he finally found his sport, whatever that means. I thought soccer was his sport… I didn't even realize you could call horseback riding a sport, but there it is." She sighed happily before she asked again, "So why are you here, Laura? If it's not about Mother and it's not about you and Remington having problems… I know you didn't come just for a morning visit."

Laura exhaled sharply and stated, "It's about Dad."

"Dad?" Frances repeated. "What about him? He's gone, Laura, and you should finally accept the fact he will never be coming back."

"He's back, Frances, well, sort of," Laura informed her sister in a serious tone.

Frances laughed, "He's not back, Laura. Now, look who's seeing things!"

Laura reached out and took Frances's hand in hers, "It's true. He's been in Witness Protection this whole time. I saw him yesterday…"

"No… that's not possible," Frances chastised her. "I'm sure you're just making that up."

"Frances, I'm not making this up!" Laura insisted. "He found out he was working for the mob and went to the FBI."

Frances rolled her eyes in a grand gesture, "The FBI? Really, Laura? Now, look who's telling stories. You couldn't come up with a better explanation as to why he left?"

Laura stood and began to pace as she tried to convince her sister, "Frances, I'm telling you the truth. He's been on Almas Perdidas Isle, living in the lighthouse for the last twelve years."

"A lighthouse? How far fetched can you get, Laura?" Frances groaned.

Laura threw her hand up and stated, "Do you remember that blanket I had?"

"The white one Grandmother made for you?" Frances asked.

"Well, Dad took it with him. I found it in a chest with photo albums and a bunch of other things we gave him when we were little," Laura insisted.

Frances stood, "And where was this chest? Hidden away on the island? Like a treasure chest?"

Laura pulled the small keyring out of her pocket, "No, it's in a storage facility downtown. Along with his records, their wedding photos, his books… it's all there, Frances. And I can show it to you if you really don't believe me."

Frances stared at the keys dangling from Laura's fingers, "If it is true… and I'm not saying I believe you… but if what you're saying is the truth, what does he want?"

Laura shook her head, "He wants to be part of the family again. He said he still loves us… all of us."

Frances sat down and exhaled, "I'm not sure I want that. I mean, it's been fourteen years, Laura, I have a life of my own, a family I didn't have back then."

Laura sat beside her sister and held her hand, "I know, Frances."

"And if we do let him in, what's to say he isn't going to just take off a second time? I don't know if I can go through that again," Frances lamented.

"I know," Laura agreed.

Frances looked into Laura's eyes and added, "And what about Mother? She's moving back to California… does he expect to just walk right back into her life, too? You saw what she was like when he left."

Laura grabbed Frances's other hand and gripped the two of them tightly as she assured her, "I'm not going to do anything that's going to hurt our family. And I'm going to make sure he understands that he can't just walk back in. It's going to take time… and he's going to have to be patient with us."

"Right," Frances nodded. She sighed once more and asked, "That was quite the bombshell you dropped this morning. Is there anything else I should know about?"

Laura gave her a relaxed smile, "Rem and I started rebuilding my house… our house… on the old foundation."

"What? You didn't tell me that," Frances exclaimed.

"Yes, we stopped by yesterday. Most of the framing for the first floor is in place, and they were just starting on the second floor," Laura explained.

Frances tipped her head slightly, "Second floor? That house didn't have a second floor."

"I know! Rem had the brilliant idea of adding up, so we would have more space to spread out. He added a home office, two extra bedrooms, and even a master bath," Laura informed her. Her brown eyes flashed with excitement over each description.

"Extra bedrooms? Are you two planning on expanding anytime soon?" Frances winked.

Color flooded Laura's cheeks as she blushed profusely, "No… I don't think so… not soon anyway. We've only been married a few months… we're not talking about that yet." She fingered the collar of her blouse nervously.

"But you have talked about it, haven't you, Laura?" Frances pushed.

"Maybe a little," Laura admitted. "Holding baby Emma in Ireland definitely opened up my eyes to the possibilities of having a child, but I don't know how something like that would fit into our lives right now."

Frances gave her a knowing look as she stated, "You know what they say, Laura, new home, new baby! Just don't forget to christen every room when you first move in."

"Christen every room? Frances, what are you talking about?" Laura asked, confused.

Frances gave her a little nudge and whispered, "You know… you and Remington have to… in every room."

"Oh, Frances," Laura groaned with a broad smile and a shake of her head.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

The dog days of summer passed slowly. Business slowed down, as expected, and Laura and Remington found more excuses to head to the beach instead of work. They would spend a few hours each afternoon, simply lounging along the shore, the heat of the summer sun sapping their energy until they would pack up their few belongings and head home. Even Remington had noticed Laura's more relaxed demeanor and took it in stride. "Really, Laura, I don't know why we didn't start this summer tradition a few years ago," he commented as they packed up one evening to head home.

"I guess I never thought about slowing down," Laura admitted. "I always found an excuse to be busy."

"But now, we've got Mildred and Bernice hard at work in the office, so you and I can take some time off," Remington smiled.

Laura returned his smile. "Time off to focus on other things."

"I checked in with the builder this morning while you were on the phone. Progress is coming together nicely, and if the weather continues, we might be able to move in before Thanksgiving," he informed her.

"Well, I think when we told them we wanted everything left white and we would take care of the painting and decorating ourselves, that helped," Laura added.

Remington chuckled, "Yes, well, I think the builder's interior designer was a bit miffed you wanted to do it. He seemed to think his ideas were going to be better than anything you thought of."

Laura shrugged her shoulders and stated, "I just thought it would be more fun for us to do it ourselves. It's a clean slate, and we can do whatever we want." She yawned loudly, barely covering her mouth.

"Tired?" Remington teased.

"Mmm," Laura blinked. "I don't know why."

Remington patted her knee as they slowly drove toward the loft, their home of choice for the evening. "Well, considering you've been up pacing every night this week, waiting for the news to update you on the trial, I might offer a few suggestions."

"Not every night," she refuted.

"No, I stand corrected. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, so you were up early this morning to watch the news," Remington recalled.

Laura pulled on the elastic, holding her hair back and allowed her wavy, chestnut locks to whip around in the wind. "I just need to know what's going on. My father can't call me every day to tell me, and Special Agent Molloy only tells me so much."

"Uh-huh. It sounds like you care more about your father's well being than you care to admit," Remington pointed out.

"Well, I want to make sure he's safe. And when this comes to an end, I want to know that what he went through… what we all went through… for the last fourteen years was worth it," Laura stated.

"And what about your mother, eh? Have you heard from her at all?" Remington reminded Laura as he put the car in park outside of the loft.

Laura yawned again and shook her head, "She left a message the other day, but when I called her back, she wasn't home." She climbed out and yawned once more. "What's for dinner tonight, Mr. Steele?" she teased.

"I was thinking a little chicken piccata, some garlic bread, a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc," he rattled off as he climbed out of the car and followed Laura up the stairs.

"Everything but the wine sounds perfect. If I drink anything, I'll fall right asleep," Laura declared. She trudged her way up the steps, Remington watching her carefully.

"Laura, are you all right?" he questioned.

"I'm fine, really. I'm just tired, that's all," Laura insisted.

"Then let's get dinner made so you can get some rest," Remington decided.

The next morning, they arrived at the office early and found Mildred already hard at work. "Really, Mildred, did you even go home yesterday?" Remington questioned with a teasing tone.

"I didn't… well, I did, but I didn't," Mildred replied cryptically. She did her best to avoid eye contact with Remington as she focused on the computer screen.

Remington folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, "Well, Ms. Krebs, would you care to elaborate?"

Mildred hammered away at the keyboard for another minute before she finally sighed, "I had a date last night."

"A date? That's wonderful!" Remington declared loudly. "Who was this date with?" he asked before he accepted the coffee mug Laura handed him.

"Who had a date?" Laura asked, confused.

"Mildred apparently. But she hasn't gotten around to the good part," Remington teased.

Mildred sighed again and toyed with the pencil on the desk. "It was with Joe," she stated softly.

"Joe? Why does that name sound familiar?" Laura tipped her head to look at Remington.

"Because Joe is the new mailman," Bernice announced from her desk. She sat at attention, carefully listening to everyone from across the room.

Laura turned and blinked at Mildred, "Is that true? Did you have a date with Joe, the mailman?"

"Yes," Mildred squeaked. "It turns out he's not the ogre I thought he was… he's more of a tiger if you ask me."

Laura couldn't hide the shocked expression on her face as Remington commented, "Really? And why the sudden change of heart? I thought you and he-"

"It just sort of happened!" Mildred blurted out. "I was at the bowling alley, practicing, when I spotted another bowler, a few lanes down. He was all alone like I was, so I got closer and asked if he wanted to practice together. It wasn't until he turned around that I realized who he was."

"So, how does throwing a bowling ball lead to…" Remington paused but swung his hand side to side for added effect.

Mildred toyed with the pencil again. "Well, once we got over the initial shock, we decided to put out differences aside and practice together. Then something magical happened. I reached for my ball, and he reached for his… It was like kismet," she sighed wistfully. She quickly gathered her composure and added, "He's a writer, you know, too. He just got his first book published, and he's working on his second one."

Laura sauntered around Mildred's desk and gave the older woman a small hug. "Well, I hope it works out… for both of you," she stated softly.

"Aw, thanks, Mrs. Steele. So, do I… especially if last night is any indication of what other things could be like," Mildred purred.

"Well, I hope for your sake it works out, too," Remington declared. He took another sip of his coffee and looked at Bernice. "Ms. Foxx, any messages for Mrs. Steele or myself this morning?"

"Only one. Laura, your mother called," Bernice informed them.

Laura's eyebrows shot up, "Really? What did she say?"

"She said she'd be-" Bernice began but was interrupted when Abigail swept through the glass front doors.

"Laura!" Abigail called loudly.

"Mother?" Laura scurried into the waiting area to see Abigail standing before her, a broad smile on her face. "Mother, what are you doing here?"

Abigail pulled Laura into a quick hug as she stated, "I thought I would surprise you and Remington for a little visit."

"Well, I'm surprised all right," Laura replied, flabbergasted.

Abigail stepped back and studied Laura's face for a moment. "What's wrong, Laura? Are you sick? You look pale," she observed.

"Hello, Abigail," Remington stepped into Abigail's space and brushed his lips across her temple. "It's so nice to see you. You should have told us you were coming. We could have picked you up at the airport."

"Nonsense! I arrived last night, spent the night at the hotel, and took a cab here this morning. I wanted it to be a surprise," Abigail smiled at him. "Now, tell me the truth. Is Laura sick? She looks pale," she repeated.

Laura linked her arm into the crook of Abigail's and gently guided her to Remington's office, "I'm not sick, Mother. A little tired maybe but definitely not sick."

Remington held the door open and waited for the pair to enter his office.

"As a matter of fact, she's been taking it easy this summer, spending almost every afternoon at the beach," Bernice interjected.

Laura glanced over her shoulder at Bernice and quickly added, "I'm not sick, I'm not pale. It must just be the light in here. Let's go into Mr. Steele's office, and we can catch up."

"Really, Laura, must you keep calling him Mr. Steele. After all, he is your husband," Abigail reprimanded her daughter.

"We're at the office, Mother, and when we're here, we like to keep things formal," Laura tried.

Abigail shook her head as Laura continued to guide her through the door, "I don't know why you feel you need to put up this front, Laura. Everyone knows you're sleeping with your boss."

Laura groaned and shot Bernice a look that screamed, "help me" before Remington closed the door closed behind them with a laugh.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Laura sipped her coffee as she sat on the couch in Remington's office across from her mother and listened to Abigail complain continuously about the housing market in Connecticut. "But, I thought real estate was stable?" Remington interjected Abigail's rant.

"For the moment, but what's going to happen if prices drop before the house sells?" Abigail questioned.

"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about, Mother," Laura tried to assure her.

"I bet those people in that post office in Oklahoma thought that, too, before that postal worker walked in and shot up the place. You know he killed fourteen people before he took his own life?!" she exclaimed.

Remington tapped his lips with two fingers and stated with a grin, "Abigail, I don't believe a disgruntled postal worker is going to delay the purchase of your home in Connecticut."

Abigail simply waved her hands and announced, "Well, you never know!"

Laura was distracted by a light knock on the door before Bernice stuck her head into the room. "Laura, there is someone here to see you," she stated nervously.

Laura rose to her feet, "I'll be back in a few minutes, Mother." She followed Bernice into the waiting room, where she found her father waiting for her.

"Loo-Loo! It's over! It's finally over!" he exclaimed loudly. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight as Laura's arms remained dangling at her sides. "I'm a free man again! No more FBI, no more hiding."

Laura glanced over at the door to Remington's office and nodded, "That's great. Tell you what, why don't you leave your number with Bernice, and we can get together in a few days when you're settled?"

"No, we need to celebrate! Let me take you out to brunch, just like we used to go when you were a little girl. Is that little diner still there?" he asked excitedly.

"This really isn't a good time," Laura began just before Abigail stepped through Remington's doorway.

"Laura," Abigail called her name. She looked up and stopped short as her eyes connected with John's.

John inhaled sharply, "Abigail. I didn't know you were here."

"John," Abigail responded coldly. Remington stepped out of his office and joined the small group silently.

John turned to Laura and asked, "Did you tell her?"

Abigail turned her icy stare at Laura and demanded, "Tell me what?"

"Um… Dad… well… he's back. He was under a federal protection program, but now he's back," Laura stammered. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she was finding it difficult to breathe as her parents stood just a short distance from each other for the first time in over fourteen years.

"I see," Abigail responded in a flat monotone.

John took several steps forward, his arms reaching out to Abigail as he stated, "I've missed you, Abi-" The rest of his words were cut short by the stinging slap of Abigail's hand across his face. "Abigail, I'm so sorry," he whispered heavily as he held his hand against his face.

Laura took a step forward, "Mother, it wasn't his fault." Remington also stepped forward and tried to reach out to his mother-in-law, "Abigail, listen-"

"Wasn't his fault?!" Abigail snapped. "He left us, Laura. He just packed up his things and left us, and you want to say it wasn't his fault?" She folded her arms across her chest and looked away.

"It wasn't like that, Abigail. I never wanted to leave. I was forced to… to protect you, all of you," John insisted. "I tried to tell you to warn you."

Abigail inhaled sharply, "You should have contacted us… somehow. Instead, I got nothing but a hastily written note you'd send money when you could, and that was it. No explanation, no phone call, no letters."

"I did send money… every month. Whatever they paid me, I sent most of it to you. I had no use for it. I was holed up on an island most of the time, away from the world," John cried.

Laura narrowed her eyes at Abigail, "Mother? Is that true?"

Abigail turned to Laura, and, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, she stated, "Well, yes. How do you think I was still able to afford the house in the beginning? But after I sold it, I didn't need the money anymore. I had everything forwarded to Connecticut, and I put it all in a bank account. I haven't touched it."

"All of it?" John asked incredulously. Remington couldn't hide the look of shock on his own face, and he could see it mirrored the look on Laura's as well.

"Most of it. I only stayed in California long enough for Laura to start college before I moved to Connecticut. Then Frances and Donald got married and moved close by… I figured it would be good for the grandchildren when I'm gone," Abigail stated firmly.

Laura's mouth dropped open, "You never told me that. All this time, I thought he was gone for good, and you had to fend…"

"I did have to fend for myself!" Abigail insisted. "I had to be both mother and father to you and your sister, and it was no picnic." She fought hard to keep the tears filling her eyes from spilling down her cheeks.

John stepped closer to Abigail and tried to touch her arm, "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone." When Abigail didn't pull away initially, he reached up and wiped away a stray tear. "It killed me every day knowing what I left behind, but I had to do it. And now it's over. The grand jury indited everyone on that list and in the organization. And the best part… they had no idea who I was. I sat there, completely anonymous. The FBI never used my name, and most of the original family is long gone or already behind bars. The few that were there held tight to their belief in Omertà, their code of silence. But they didn't have to say anything. With my ledgers and the other evidence, the FBI had, none of them will ever see the light of day again."

"Is that true? It's completely over?" Abigail whispered. She looked up into his dark brown eyes, her own brown eyes still filled with tears.

"It's finally over," John whispered before he pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly as she cried silently, the dam of tears unshed for so many years finally broken.

Laura couldn't help feeling emotional as her parents held one another. Remington closed the gap between them and pulled her against his side before he brushed his lips across her temple. "I never thought I'd see this day," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotions.

"It's one too long in coming, I'd say," Remington whispered back.

"What happens now?" Laura questioned softly.

Remington shook his head, "I don't know, but I think, perhaps, we should take them somewhere, where they can talk about things. The apartment, maybe?"

Laura cleared her throat, but it was Remington who spoke, "Abigail, John, might I suggest we take a ride somewhere a little more private and you two and hash things out?"

Abigail took a step back and tugged on the hem of her jacket, "I think that would be a good idea. I think I'd like to hear more about where John's been all this time."

John nodded in agreement, "I have to go back to the island to pack up my things… what little I still have there. Maybe Abigail would like to see it. Maybe that would help you understand why communicating was so difficult."

Remington clapped his hands together and declared, "I think that would be an excellent idea. Why doesn't Laura bring Abigail back to her hotel first to change… not that your suit isn't lovely, Abigail, but it's not going to serve you well on that speedboat. Then, they can meet us back at our apartment."

"Steve… Special Agent Molloy is waiting to drive me back. I can tell him to wait for you at the docks. We can all go together," John nodded. He turned to Abigail and asked, "Only if you want to go. I'll understand if you don't."

Abigail squared her shoulders and stated, "No, you're right. I do deserve answers, and I think I'd like to see it for myself."

"Well then, it's settled. I'll meet the ladies back at the apartment, and then we'll meet you at the docks," Remington smiled, hoping it would lighten the mood enough.

Laura looked at her husband and replied, "Fine." Abigail and John simultaneously declared the same, "Fine." Remington looked around the small group and, with a toothy grin, cheered, "Fine, then."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Two more weeks passed, and John Holt was finally settled into a small, one-bedroom apartment not too far from the Rossmore. Because of his help, the FBI managed to find him a job working for a company whose sole mission was to decipher and eliminate money laundering fraud. As John began to settle into his new life, Abigail was back in Connecticut, packing up her home to move back to California. Laura made a point to call each of them several times, just to check in and gauge where they were at in their own resolutions toward each other.

It had been apparent from the moment Abigail stepped off the boat onto the island, and she saw the small lighthouse keeper's quarters, that she let go of the anger she held toward him. As the day had worn on, Laura even saw familiar sparks of the feelings her parents did still feel toward each other. During the ride back to Imperial Beach, Laura even caught the two of them holding hands, much to her surprise.

Business at the office had steadily begun to pick up now that Labor Day was a slightly distant memory, and the world seemed to shift balance once again. Laura and Remington had picked up a new case about a missing diamond necklace. Remington couldn't refuse once it was determined the finders' fee had been set at twenty-five thousand dollars. The pair had spent the better part of the weekend studying one particular location, and after some careful searching, they found the necklace hidden away in a safe. As they left the premises, they had to run away from a pair of armed goons in a harrowing escape. While they were running, Laura had to stop several times, due to a nagging pain low on her side. "Are you all right?" Remington questioned after the third stop, to which Laura simply replied, "I'll be fine, Mr. Steele," just before she would begin running again.

When they finally made it home, Remington demanded to know what was going on. "I'm fine… it's nothing," Laura tried to avoid discussing her discomfort.

"Laura, it is very clear, you are not fine. Now, tomorrow you'll be taking yourself to the doctor where they can determine precisely what is going on with you," he declared.

Laura closed her eyes and groaned, "If that will make you happy, I'll do it. But I can tell you; it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. Give it a few more days, and it will go away."

Remington folded his arms and stated, "It will make me happy. It makes me very unhappy to see you in any type of pain, Laura, especially when nothing I've done to try to help alleviate the pain seems to be working."

The next morning, Laura called her doctor and was able to get the first appointment of the day. She insisted she could go alone, so Remington headed to the office to write up the report of the accounts from their weekend. He was surprised when several hours later, she had not made an appearance. "The doctor probably got held up by some kind of emergency. Don't worry so much," Mildred insisted.

Just after one, Remington heard Bernice greet Laura. Several long seconds later, Laura appeared in his office. She was rubbing the back of her neck with one hand as the other one clutched her purse to her side. She stopped long enough to close both office doors before stepping closer to his desk.

"Laura? How was your appointment? The… ah… doctor confirm your suspicions?" he asked as he signed off on several pages. He straightened the small stack and pushed the pages aside as he waited for her answer.

Laura shook her head and replied nervously, "Um, no… no, it wasn't what I thought at all. Rem… we… we need to talk."

Remington immediately moved around his desk to stand beside her. He put his hand on her shoulders and stated softly, "Laura, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound serious. Did the doctor find something?"

Shaking her head with her eyes wide, Laura bit her lip and replied, "Yeah… yeah… you could say that."

"Is it bad? I mean, you're not sick, are you?" he asked. He slid his hands down her arms to rest just above her elbows.

Laura dropped her head down, unable to make eye contact, "Sick? No, not yet…. I mean, I guess it could still happen, but no, not yet, not now." She shrugged her shoulders and exhaled slowly.

Remington lifted her chin with his fingers. Staring back at him, Laura looked worried and definitely scared. "Laura, whatever it is, you can tell me. We'll get through this together. Now, come on, what did the doctor find?"

Laura reached into her purse and pulled out a strip of black and white pictures. She handed the paper to him and said, "He found this."

Remington confused, looked at the images, and back up at Laura. Covering his mouth with his hand, he thought for a moment then asked, "Laura, forgive me if this sounds like a stupid question, but what… what exactly am I looking at here?"

Laura pointed to the fuzzy, white, bean-shaped spot on the image. "That. That is a baby," she replied matter-of-factly.

Remington tilted his head to the side slightly and pursed his lips. "If that's a baby… then that would mean that you are…." Remington began, a smile slowly emerging on his face.

"Pregnant? Brilliant deduction, Mr. Steele," Laura stated, her face now devoid of any emotion.

"Laura, why do I get the feeling your not sure about this?" Remington asked cautiously.

Laura stared at him for a moment then replied, "Not sure about what? About finding out that in approximately thirty weeks, we will be…"

"Parents, Remington whispered. Louder, he says, "Parents, we are going to be parents! Oh, Laura, love! Oh, this is the best news!" He kissed her face before hugging her close.

"You're… excited about this?" Laura asked, stunned.

"You're not?" he countered.

"I'm terrified!" Laura announced. "We didn't plan for this. We're not ready for something like this. Our house isn't finished… the apartment certainly isn't big enough for three of us. I supposed we could stay at the loft… that has a little more space, but it's not going to work longterm," she rambled.

"Wait, I thought you were taking birth control pills," Rem asked as the thought suddenly dawned on him.

"I was. I am. I even took one this morning," she assured him.

"Then how did this…" he trailed off.

"An aberration I can assure you," Laura stated. "Those antibiotics the doctor gave me when we got back from Ireland, causes a decrease in the effectiveness of my birth control. I never even thought about it; we were so wrapped up in work, getting caught up. That day in the shed," she dropped her head and blushed as the memory flooded back.

"Ah, yes, that wonderful afternoon when I showed you the blueprints," he smirked. "How can you be sure it was that day and not any others. I mean, it's not like we haven't had plenty of opportunities to enjoy basking in the evenings of lovemaking."

Laura shook her head, "From what the doctor calculated, the only date that makes sense is that one."

"So, our baby was conceived on the site of our soon-to-be, newly finished home. How fitting," he laughed.

"That sounds so funny to hear you say it," Laura admitted.

"What? Our home?" he asked.

"No," she replied softly. "Our baby."

Remington kissed her lightly on the lips before he dropped to one knee. He lifted the edge of her blouse to expose her mostly flat stomach and whispered, "Next to my name, this is the best gift I've ever received."

_To be continued in Blissfully Holting Steele._


End file.
